


Desire in Denial

by sxstarscream



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Angst, Begging, Blow Jobs, F/M, Hand Jobs, I add tags as i go, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex, Sloppy Makeouts, Teasing, chris is so desperate for wesker i'm not even sorry, if it's in the tags it's in the fic, no regrets, wesker why u do dis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:44:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 72,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4287732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxstarscream/pseuds/sxstarscream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Redfield just started a new job, and a new attitude, with the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team. He thinks everything is fine, until things start happening between him and his captian, Albert Wesker...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [destinay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destinay/gifts).



> This work is dedicated to Heather, so thank her y'all because this work literally started out as me dicking around for her.

The squeal of the subway breaks echoed through the vast and empty hallways of the Raccoon City underground. Chris Redfield was already late for his new assignment as an officer in the Raccoon City Police Department's special unit. Barely older than twenty-three, Chris had already managed an impressive career along with a reputation among many prominent officers. By twenty, he had already accomplished far more than many of his older friends and fellow soldiers had accomplished. His attitude had almost lost him everything, and right now, it was threatening his ability to make it to the department at all.

"Come _on_ , goddamn stupid thing…" he was getting frustrated that his automated subway pass wasn't scanning properly.

"Sir, let me check your card." The subway wasn't busy, and the attendant had been watching his every move.

_"No."_ Chris snapped. "I know how to work a card reader." With a final hard swipe, the machine finally beeped and allowed him to pass though. His large duffle bag presented a bit of a challenge, but he tugged it hard, and it swung forwards, making him stumble. He ran down the hallway and skipped steps down the escalator. Emerging on the nearly empty platform, he looked left then right, and finally up at the digital screen reading out train times. It informed him the next subway was not due for another eight minutes. He sighed to himself, the breeze from the tunnels ruffling his messy brown hair.

Chris was dressed in civilian clothing, his professional gear all shoved sloppily into the green duffle bag, clad in dark green cargo pants and a grey t-shirt that read USAF in black letters across the front. Moving his way down the platform and standing a few feet back from the red line, he dropped his bag by his boots. Combat boots had become the only type of footwear in his wardrobe, and he had just stopped caring about his hair after he had been discharged from the Air Force. It was messy and dark, sticking up in assorted directions and pressed flat against his head at the back from his pillow. Just as he began wondering how long these eight minutes would take to pass, a breeze passed through the tunnel as a train on the opposite side moved into the station, bringing with it the distinct smell of an expensive men's cologne.

Chris had been staring down at the tracks, lost in thoughts of his days in the Air Force, and the phone conversation he had had earlier that week. The smell roused him from his thoughts, but he didn't immediately look up to find its source. Aside from the dull rumblings of the subway cars far away, and the occasional overhead voice, Chris had not heard anyone else arrive on the platform. His brow creased, and he moved his eyes up from the tracks, to follow the lines of the floor tiles along the ground to his right. They stopped when they landed on a pair of shiny, black business shoes about ten feet away from him. The brief question of why this man was standing so close to him when the whole platform was open came and left as quickly as the thought itself had formed.

Chris moved his eyes from the shoes to the black slacks, allowing his eyes to climb up the legs and torso of their owner until he reached the man's face. The upper attire was equally lacking in colour, and equally well put together. A black dress shirt, top button undone, was tucked loosely into the slacks and belt, covered by a plain, black suit jacket. He wore no tie, and held a briefcase in hand. Chris glanced at the man's face out of the corner of his eye, and seeing that the stranger was staring down the tunnel to his right, Chris turned his head more towards him to study his face.

The man was older than Chris, though not by much, as far as he could tell. His hair was a golden blonde, seeming to have a shimmer about it, despite the unflattering fluorescence of the underground tunnel. It was slicked back, and Chris could see traces of darker blonde and possibly light browns closer to his skull. The way his head was turned gave Chris a perfect outline of his features; sharp cheek bones, a well-defined jaw, and a thin mouth, held in a serious line. He stood several inches taller than Chris, and looked to be almost the same build as him. A breeze stirred again in the tunnel, and a screech of breaks let Chris know that the train was about to pull into the station, but Chris barely seemed to notice. He was almost entranced with this man; perhaps the first man Chris was ever willing to admit he found attractive.

Almost as if he had voiced his thoughts, the man turned his head in one, fluid motion, and his eyes met Chris's. They were a cold, silvery blue, and Chris held the glance with his own dark blue eyes a moment longer, before looking down at his feet. Bending slightly, he picked his duffle bag up, forcing himself to not turn and look at the man again. The side of his head was tingly, and Chris had the slightest feeling that he was being studied now. Doing his best to keep his casual stance, he pretended to read a sign on the wall across from him on the opposite platform. The train pulled up and Chris stepped forward, allowing other passengers off. He watched the man's reflection in the glass, and saw him step into the car before Chris entered his own. He sat, facing the next car, and watched the man for his entire trip. After several more stops, he lost sight of the man amongst mass of people now crowding the train.

Chris felt the sensation of being stared at three more times during his trip into Raccoon City.


	2. Something Left to Prove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris meets up with Barry Burton, and learns what exactly this new job is.

The paper in Chris Redfield's hand was folded and wrinkled, drops of rain landing on it made the paper fragile. He squinted his blue eyes through the cool wind that blew in the grey September. An address was scrolled on it, and his duffle bag was heavy on his shoulder. Chris was on his way to meet the chief of Raccoon City, and his new team, at least he hoped. Ever since Barry Burton had phoned him telling him about a job on a new team in Raccoon City, he had felt hopeful about making a positive turn in his life. Chris had been surprised that any type of law enforcement would accept him after his dismissal from the Air Force

Checking for oncoming traffic, Chris jogged across the street, his bag bouncing against his back, and walking briskly once he had oriented himself. The building for the Raccoon City police department stood large, block-like and brown at the end of Ennerdale Street, one of Raccoon's busiest. Police cars dotted the road in front of it, and fat, uniformed men stood sipping at coffees in front of them. Chris approached the building, stuffing the sheet into his pocket. Consulting his watch, he was proud of himself, seeing that it was only five after ten in the morning.

__

So far so good, only five minutes late for once. 

The officers regarded him with curiosity, eyeing his bag and military-esque attire. He suddenly became self conscious of his army issue black boots, and the stiff, uniform way in which his pants were tucked into them. A few trained police dogs were enjoying a game of fetch in the front courtyard, and Chris pulled open the heavy glass doors, welcomed by a light gust of warm air. Inside, the police department opened into a large main room with a fountain at its center. Multiple doors ran off throughout the room, and a balcony had two large stair cases leading up to it. Chris's eyes ran over the interior, and he nodded.

_Now all you have to do is get a job here._

He turned around to find a secretary's desk, and a girl not much older than him typing up documents onto a computer. She looked up when he approached and gave him a polite smile.

"Hello, name?" Her eyes were a very light green, Chris noticed. _Cute._ He gave her the smile he had given some of the female pilots.

"Redfield." Nerves were tugging at him and he was hoping she knew who he was.

"Are you here for a legal matter, as a trainee or by invitation?" Her tone was no more than polite and routine. No interest in Chris at all, she was sticking to protocol.

"Uhh," Chris was unsure of how to respond. "By invitation...Barry Burton is an old friend of mine? He called about a week ago telling me about..."

"Ah, you're Chris. Barry told me you'd be here today." The mention of Barry had warmed her to Chris a bit. "I'll page him and let him know you're here. Give me one moment." Another polite smile and she turned away from him and picked up a phone. A few words were shared before she hung up and turn back towards him.

"He says he'll be down to meet you in a few minutes. You can hang around the lobby until he gets here." Another polite dismissal and she turned back towards her work. Chris nodded in thanks and turned, looking for a place to sit. After seeing none, he resigned to wandering the lobby.

His eyes moved across the walls as he took slow steps; art pieces and paintings decorated the place. A large gold plaque took up a small section in the middle of the farthest wall, so Chris wandered over to see what it was, but was disappointed to see it was only a formal honoree notice for the police Chief Irons. Beside that plaque, another gold plate lay on the wall.

_In thanks to the generous donations of Umbrella Corporation and their continued support of the Special Tactics team of Raccoon City. Without their gracious donation-_

"Redfield!" Chris jumped at the sound of his name being called, his reading interrupted. He turned around and grinned as he saw his friend, Barry Burton approaching him, a grin on his face.

"Bear, long time, man!" Chris greeted him with a hug and two stiff pats on the back.

"Too busy sitting at home worrying about your life to call an old friend?" Barry asked with a laugh. He pulled away from Chris and put his hands on his shoulders. "You're lookin' good kid. Sticking with the daily grind?" He laughed again.

Chris frowned and pulled away from Barry, trying to suppress a snort of laughter.

"I'm not allowed to stay fit even if I'm unemployed?"

"Ah, well, my friend, that's why you are here!" Barry nodded back he way he came. "Come with me, Irons wants to meet ya." Chris bent and scooped up his duffle, walking quickly beside Barry and hoping this wouldn't be the only time he got to move through this building.

"Is the Chief nice?" He was worried about needing to impress too many people. Accommodating his attitude to superiors wasn't something Chris Redfield was used to, and was also the reason he had moved from Chicago to Raccoon City in hopes of getting a new job. He had told himself ever since Barry had called him that this would be different; Chris wanted to make a serious change.

"Irons? He's...a Chief. Kind of wrapped up the bureaucratic stuff but he's better than some I've met." Barry nodded at a few people they walked by, all of whom regarded Chris with curious glances. Chris felt a slight bit of relief. _Maybe it won't be so hard to control my temper with a nice boss._

"Well that's good then. Maybe I'll manage not getting kicked out of the department." They rounded a corner and went down a small set of steps. They emerged in a large, comfortably furnished common room.

"What makes you say that?" Barry asked, stopping and turning to face Chris.

"Oh, well you know. I have trouble listening, and following orders and all that...? Maybe with a nice boss..." Chris trailed off. He didn't know why he had become so obsessed with not letting what happened before happen again.

__

Maybe because you got kicked out of the fucking Air Force.

Barry laughed again. "Don't get too comfortable yet, Irons isn't the one you're gonna have to impress. And you aren't here to become a cop, Redfield." This made Chris frown again, but just as he was about to ask what Barry meant, he was told to wait a second for the second time that day. Barry left him in the common area to waste time while he went to get Irons, so he busied himself with reading all the bulletins tacked to the wall. Each one talked about new types of ammunition, the proper way of cleaning a fire arm and regulations for uniform and behaviour when on duty. Three headings with three lists of names were tacked to the wall. Chris's brows grew together and he looked at each one. _S.T.A.R.S. ALPHA, S.T.A.R.S. BRAVO, HOME STAR._

He wandered away from the board and began moving around the room. There were two large hallways, each branching off to his left and right, with a door and a frosted glass window at the end. He heard muffled talking and laughing, coming from down one hallway, and nothing from the other, the light not even being on.

"You new around here?" Came a voice from Chris' right. He turned around to see who had spoken to him.

"Yeah." Chris nodded, studying this new guy. The man had a dark red shirt on that said _BRAVO_ across the breast, and Chris wondered if that was the name of the team he was on. The guy turned around and held out his hand.

"I'm Richard Aiken, but all the guys here call me Rick." The way he spoke made Chris feel like this was somebody he could easily get along with, and he found himself hoping he was in the process of making a new friend already.

"Chris Redfield." The two shook. "You uh, a member of a team here?"

Richard nodded. "Yeah, Bravo. Just started last week, we haven't done too much yet. Bravo's team has a full roster though; you must be the recruit Barry recommended for Alpha?"

Chris barely understood a word of this, and his face must have said as much. Richard gave him a critical look.

"Barry hasn't told you what's what yet?" Chris felt mild annoyed, suddenly, that Barry had brought him here without telling him what was going on. He shook his head.

"My guess," Richard said, pretending he was conspiring, "is that Burton's brought you here as the last member of Alpha."

"Alpha?" Chris was feeling more and more confused about why he was here.

"S.T.A.R.S. Alpha. S.T.A.R.S. is the new team, formed by Raccoon City as an elite sort of group of ex-military and geniuses from all over the States" Richard wandered to a basket which held a small variety of fruit and plucked out an apple, taking a bite. "Special tactics and rescue services. There are two teams, Alpha and Bravo, as well as Homestar, but really that's just the station. Bravo is more of a home based team, probably doing higher up cop work around Raccoon City. Alpha is the more 'elite' of the two." Richard's voice took a bitter tone. "Sort of like Raccoon's own little FBI. Each team has been assembled based on recommendations, volunteers and head hunters, and each is to be led by a captain."

This felt a bit overwhelming to Chris. An elite team? His file said he had 'retired' from the Air Force, but Barry and his old commanders knew the truth. Chris was almost beyond positive that something this important...there was no way he would stay 'retired'. Their captain, or the chief, somebody would eventually find out that he was kicked out, and then there was not a chance in hell he would stay here. Chris felt discouraged, and that his packed duffle bag had been far too optimistic.

"If you're here, and Irons accepted the recommendation from Burton, chances are you're here for good. Unless your captain says otherwise, but I don't even think they've chosen one for Alpha yet. If he's anything like Enrico, you've got nothing to worry about."

"Enrico's your captain?" Chris asked, looking up.

"Yeah. Just met him two days ago, but he's already awesome. The teams aren't official yet, but everyone on Bravo's already been approved by Enrico. As soon as you get approved by Irons, and your captain gets here and approves Alpha, then S.T.A.R.S. training can begin." Richard said with a grin, finishing off his apple. "Where you from, anyways?"

"Chicago." This got a laugh from Aiken.

"I mean what's your background? You're too brawny to be a scientist." He burped. "No offence."

"Air Force." Chris said, timidly. Richard's eyebrows shot up.

"No shit, huh? That must be where you met Barry." Richard nodded. "I bet you got some serious skills, Chris."

Chris looked at his feet. "I was alright. Where about you?" The idea of 'selective team-building' was beginning to form in Redfield's mind.

"I'm a Gulf vet. Ex- navy seal, I was asked to come here." He grinned. "Makes you feel kind of good to be asked to be in something so elite."

Barry wandered back into the room, followed by a portly, older man, smoking a cigar. Richard turned and gave Barry a grin, and nodded to the round man. "Chief Irons."

"Aiken, what are you still doing here? There's a celebration going on back in the Bravo dorms, shouldn't you be back there getting friendly with your new boss?" Irons laughed, and Richard laughed too.

"Yes sir!" Rick grinned and saluted, turned and wandered down the rowdy hallway. Chris watched him go, and turned to face Chief Irons. He stood straight and gave a stiff nod. "Chief. It's nice to meet you, I'm Chris Redfield."

"Of course it is, son. Good to meet you!" He shook out a thick hand and shook Chris's with surprising force. "Barry Burton told me a lot about you. Says you were a top dog in your team? Let me tell you, based on what I've read and heard from Barry, you're going to be all that Alpha needs." He laughed a deep laugh again. "Well, that and a captain. Although, apparently one is on his way down here later this week."

"Apparently? Isn't that the kind of thing you should know?" Barry laughed again. Chris felt jittery.

__

If your captain accepts you as easily as the Chief does, you're in.

"Barry didn't tell me a whole lot about S.T.A.R.S., but that Aiken guy filled me in." Chris said, shooting Barry a dark look; he had enough decency to at least pretend to look ashamed.

"I thought if I had explained what it was, you wouldn't have come." Barry shrugged. Chief Irons laughed.

"Well, I just wanted to meet you face to face Mr. Redfield. Barry here can fill you in on most everything else. I think you'll fit in just fine. Excellent experience, I'm sure once your captain gets into town, you'll make a damn good impression on him." Chris couldn't help the reluctance tugging at his confidence.

"I sure hope I do, sir." Chris said, giving another stiff nod. Barry gave him a look of approval.

"I better be off, just wanted to see him for myself. You've done well, Burton." Irons gave Barry a pat on the shoulder, and turned to grin at Chris again. A puff of smoke moved from his cigar and circled his head. "It was nice meetin' you, Redfield. I'm not technically supposed to do anything for the teams, but you'll probably see me once or twice more before your captain gets here." He shook Chris's hand again. "Barry, take Chris to the ALPHA common room, show him where his bunk is, he can share with you since the others aren't here to complain. As for me, I'm back to the guys upstairs." A final nod and a grin, and Chief Irons left. Barry turned to Chris and raised his eyebrows.

"So far so good, eh?" He laughed. "Come on, kid. I'll show you what's what." Barry turned and led Chris down the darker, quiet hallway to the right until he reached the door with the frosted window. Pulling out a key, he unlocked it and went inside, flicking on a light. The pair stepped into the room and Barry shut the door behind them. Inside was a large, open area, with half a dozen couches and chairs, all of which looked relatively comfortable, and a kitchenette taking up the corner closest to the door, stocked with a fridge, a microwave, and a few cabinets. A large set of double doors off to the right of where the pair stood were open to a darkened room filled with cubicles and computers. On the walls were more of the same things that had been on the bulletins. There was a hallway directly at the opposite end of the room, and one hallway off to the left, which was well lit and stark white.

"This is the common area for ALPHA. The room we just left was the STARS' collective common area." Barry said, sweeping his hand around. "In here is where the team will meet, be given duties, assignments, hang out in spare time, clean the weapons, and on and on." He gestured to the double doors on the right. "That's where all the paperwork gets done. As far as I know, every assignment needs a formal record that you're responsible for. Also there's some exams we have to do, nothing big just qualification things; 'what do you do for this, what do you do for that' type of thing." Turning left, he gestured to the white hallway "Down there is the gym, it's got a track, a weight room, cardio machines, pool... we'll do all of our fitness and fight training in there." Chris wanted to go look and see, but apparently this was just his orientation. Barry began walking through the room and gestured for Chris to follow, so he shouldered the bag and followed Barry down the hallway opposite.

The hallway was wide, and had even more fliers and bulletins on the walls, all listing stars protocol and emergency procedures. Barry paused at the first door, and pointed into a large room with a long narrow table, seats and a projector. "That's the board room. Captain's meetings, more important discussions, and Bravo-Alpha meetings will happen in there." The wall opposite the boardroom had an open door. In it, a large, empty desk sat in the middle, with a plain looking office chair accompanying it. "That will be the captain's office. Of course they're too good to do their paper work where everyone else does theirs." Barry laughed.

The hallway turned right at the end, and led to a shorter hallway. Down it were four doors, two on each wall and all with a wide space in between them, and one final door at the end of the hall. Barry gestured to each of the three doors in turn, and looked over his shoulder at Chris as he spoke. "These are where, as I understand it, we sleep during the week, and we go home on the weekends. That's why I told you to bring some stuff." The first room had the door shut in two, but the next was open, and Chris saw a pile of stuff on the bed, books lining the desk and a bunch of clothes draped over the edge of the upper bunk.

"I haven't met any of the other team mates, hell; I don't even know their names. But Irons told me there are four guys, including you and me, one girl and our captain. Joseph says the girl gets a single for sure, and he and Vickers already took the bunk room. Looks like you and I get rooms to ourselves," Barry pointed to the room filled with stuff. "I've taken this one." He swung open the second to last door. "You can have the one closest to the captain's bedroom. A gift from me to you." Chris rolled his eyes.

Inside, Chris grinned to see Barry's accustomed tidy layout, a photo of his family sat on one of the desks, and all of his stuff was piled on the bedk.

"Hope you don't mind unpacking yourself, I said I'd call the girls once you got in. " He laughed. Chris laughed too.

"Not at all." He looked back out into the hallway. "I'm guessing our good captain will go in there."

"That's where the captain will sleep." Barry went back to the doorway and nodded at Chris's shut bedroom door. "Well. That's pretty much the deal for now, kid. Captain is supposed to get in on Friday, so Irons told the team to come in early to get to know one another beforehand. Until then, you get the week off." He winked at Chris, and Chris grinned in return.

"If we're done here, what do you say you take me for the best pizza in town?" He asked the older man. Barry smirked at him.

"Not even been with me a full 24 hours, and already I'm buyin' you meals."

"Hey, I'm the one who's still technically unemployed." Chris felt good, the feeling of a routine shining hopefully in front of him. All that stood between him and his new life was a captain he knew nothing about.

Yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if the layout of the STARS common rooms seems confusing. I have this weirdly specific idea of what the whole place looked like? I even drew myself out a sketch so I could describe it better...but I guess it's not THAT important.


	3. An Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris Redfield, meet Albert Wesker...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fixed one thing last chapter, instead of only 3 bedrooms with a single room and two bunk-bed rooms, I made 3 single rooms and one bunk bed room. I kinda realized that with a chapter later on I already wrote that Chris needs his own bedroom...

Chris lay on the upper bunk with his feet on the wall, and an issue of 'Guns'n'Ammo' propped against his knees. He was reading over the newest models of hand guns, and was practically drooling over them. It was Thursday evening, and after four days of working out, swimming, and going back and forth from his apartment to the police department, he was more than ready to meet his captain the next day. It had been a long week, and the nervousness he'd felt on the first day had only grown as the days had gone on. Despite meeting a lot of new people, he know no more information about his captain-to-be than he had on his first day there. The week had been spent wandering around Raccoon City's various streets and areas, sniffing out bars and good pizza and burger joints. Chris had even called to invite Claire to come and visit him, and she had agreed to in the next couple of weeks.

Raccoon City had proved to be an interesting place after all. The subways were easy enough to get around on, and there were plenty of places he could kill time. His apartment was about a twenty minute subway ride away from the police department, but if he wanted to, he could easily walk there. _Maybe in the spring._ He had thought as he wandered back through the department.

After a deal of discussion and moving everything around, Chris, and the other STARS ALPHA members had delegated out who got one of the three single bedded rooms, and which two had to share the bunk room. Chris sat with his back against propped up pillows on the large, flat bed in the smallest single room, his clothes strewn across the floor already, and a pile of ammo magazines beside his bed. The room was plain, even though he'd decorated it with a number of posters he'd acquired in the Air Force. A model plane sat atop the shelf on the wall, and a few books, not that he ever read them.

When he got to the last page of the magazine, he flipped it shut and added it to the pile. He sat up and stretched, scratching the back of his head. Rising for the first time in hours, he swung his feet over the side of the bed, stood, and stretched again. His stomach growled noisily, and he looked to the clock. It read 9:35, and he frowned. It was too late, and he was too lazy to out anywhere, and had resigned himself to lazing around the Alpha common room all night. The next day would be the last day he would be here without having duties to do.

_Possibly the last day here, period._ Chris had also been filling his head with all the possibilities of what his captain would be like over the course of the week. During his time in the Air Force, he'd heard some horror stories, about recruits with horrible bosses, who would work them nonstop and make them do loads of extra work if they didn't live up to expectations. He'd heard of bosses that you could never impress, and captains that didn't train them at all. From what he'd seen of Enrico, his hopes had been lightened a bit. _That's Bravo's captain. Alpha's will be more of a hard ass. Yours is the boss of all of STARS and Alpha's captain._ He thought, miserably.

Chris had decided to go see if there was anything to eat by the coffee table in the lounge area, so he walked down the hallway, and out into the Alpha common room. The room was empty, except for Jill Valentine. He hesitated in the doorway when he saw her, and she looked up at him once he had entered the room, giving him a smile.

"Hi, Chris." She said. She arrived the previous day, and Chris had been completely relieved when he saw her. Jill was pretty, and she seemed nice enough to be on a team with.Not totally useless in the gym either, and gave him a run for his money when they had swam laps together the previous night.

"Hi, Jill." He returned. Jill was sitting with her feet up on one of the couches, and a book propped against her knees. Donned in a plain grey sweater and black track pants, her short brown hair hung loose around her head, and she wore no makeup. _Not that she needs any._ He thought to himself. That whole day he'd been trying to think of ways to get Jill to go to get a coffee with him, but he hadn't gotten her alone. Everyone on Alpha and Bravo seemed to like Jill, and she'd only been there for twenty-four hours. _You've got competition for the only girl on Alpha._

"Where are you going?" She asked, slipping a bookmark into the book.

"Just to get something to eat, I've got munchies." He laughed. Jill laughed too.

"There's not much out there. Unless you plan on walking somewhere."

"No...and shit, really?" As if in response, his stomach grumbled again. "Oh well, guess I'll just wait until the morning."

Jill swung her feet off the couch, and reached down into a bag he hadn't noticed. "Here, I don't really want it." She pulled out a brown paper bag. "It's a banana muffin."

Chris smiled, and closed the distance, walking over and taking the bag from her. "Thanks, are you sure?"

She nodded, and wiggled the bag, the muffin crinkling against the paper inside. "Yeah, go for it."

He took it and stuck his hand inside, pulling off half and stuffing it in his mouth. "Thanks." His voice was muffled with crumbs, and he felt himself blush a little.

She snickered at him. "No problem. I'm going to swim a few laps then go to bed. Gotta be up early." She stood and stretched. "Are you nervous to meet our captain tomorrow?"

Chris felt his heart squirm, and he shifted his weight from his right foot to his left. "A bit." He confessed. "I uh, I have a bad history with authority."

"Oh, a bad boy, huh?" She laughed. "I'm sure he'll be fine." She stopped and frowned. "Or she."

Chris looked at his feet. _Yeah, a history of telling them to fuck off, and that I'll do what the fuck I want._ Barry had been hinting all week that one hint of that attitude would get him kicked out of the freaking city. He dug the toe of his foot into the floor, and shrugged. "I'll be on my best behaviour."

"That's good. Well... I'll see you in the morning. Brad told me Irons let him know our Captain would be here around 10." She bent over and picked up the bag, swinging it over her shoulder.

Chris nodded, grim faced. "10. Got it." He looked at Jill, and thought about her swimming, changing into her suit, slipping into the water...

"Uh.." he coughed a bit, and walked quickly to the door to the dorms, pausing only once he had his back to her. "Thanks, for the uh..." he held up the bag, and Jill laughed again.

"Let's say you owe me." She said with a wink. "Goodnight."

"Night." Chris said, watching her turn and walk away. _You owe me._ There was no way Chris would let himself hope for a date, but maybe...

He sighed and kept walking until he got to his bedroom, slipping inside and closing the door. The bag crumpled around the leftover muffin, and he tossed it onto the desk. He tugged the shirt off his chest and let it drop to the floor, along with his pants, slipping into bed clad in his boxers. He stared up at the ceiling, and sighed again. After several moments empty thought, he pulled the blankets over himself, clicked off the light, and drifted off to sleep, with the image of Jill's smile behind his eyes, and wondering thoughts of his captain, whom he would be meeting first thing the next morning.

"Redfield, up!" Chris woke with a start, Barry shaking his foot. A dull stream of sunlight came from the long, narrow window above the bed. Rubbing his eyes and grumbling, he heard Barry chuckle. "It's Friday, kid. Know what that means?"

Chris's heart did some impossible feeling flop, and an image of an absurdly large and mean looking man popped into his mind. "Captain day." He felt green. _Get ready to pack and leave, and say bye to Brad and Barry and Joesph. And Jill._

"You got it, and you're behind schedule already." Barry said throwing the clothes Chris had draped over the back of his desk chair onto the end of Chris's bed. Chris sat bolt upright, his head spinning slightly from the sudden movement.

"What, no I...he's here already?" Panic set into Chris, and Barry laughed again, but this time more gently.

"Buddy, you gotta calm down." He shook his head at Chris, and Chris gulped.

"This is basically my last chance, Barry. My very, very, _very_ last chance. I can't..." he sighed. "If I fuck this up, I'll be stuck working at burger joints for the rest of my life and I can't do that."

Barry smiled at Chris and went over to him, patting him on the shoulder.

"You said you've turned yourself around and you'll take this seriously, and I have faith in you." He turned and walked to the door. "And no, you aren't late. Irons said he'll be coming to see us at 10. It's 9:30." He closed the door behind him, leaving Chris sitting alone in the bed.

_Why are you freaking out, Chris, calm down. Just remember to be calm and do as you're told. The rest of the world can do it so why can't you._ He pushed the covers aside and stretched for a few minutes. He tugged his dark green pants over his boxers, and pulled on a white shirt that said "S.T.A.R.S." in bold, navy blue print across the back. He sat down and laced up his boots, sighing again and going out into the hallway. For all the panic he felt inside, the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha area was as quiet and calm as it had been all week. He walked down the hall and into the common room. Brad was filling a coffee cup, and nodded a hello to Chris, which Chris returned. He walked down the right to the washrooms, and nearly collided with Jill. Her hair was wet and she smelled really good. Chris smiled at her.

"Oh, hey Chris." She gave him a smile. "Nervous?"

He gave her what he hoped was a casual shrug. "Nah, I can do this." She smiled and walked away, and Chris found himself wishing he could believe his own words. He went into the men's washroom to find Barry flossing his teeth in the mirror. Chris avoided him by walking quickly down to the urinals to pee, and wash his hands and face, before going back to the main room. Barry was finishing up and Chris went over to his cupboard and took out his toothbrush and toothpaste.

"What if he's the biggest dick in the world?" Chris began scrubbing his teeth, as if the cleaner he was, the better impression he'd make.

"He damn well could be, and you know it." Chris gave Barry a filthy stare in the mirror and spit.

"Thank you for your kind support, not like I'm scared I'll get fired again or anything." Barry sighed.

"This isn't the Air Force." He said quietly. "You know what Officer Todd said, your record officially says _"retired"_. This new guy won't know, okay?"

Chris shoved his stuff back into the cupboard and rubbed his eyes.

"Damn it, I hope you're right."

The two of them left the bathroom, and walked back to the common area, where Jill and Brad were hanging about. Chris looked up at the clock and saw that it read 9:55. _Any minute now._

Almost right after he had thought it, the door opened and Chief Irons walked in, followed by a tall, blonde man. Chris frowned and studied him a bit closer. _Hey, I know that guy..._ Chris's mind flashed to the subway that past Monday to the blonde man who had stood so close to him and given him that unfaltering stare. Chris shuffled nervously, and backed slightly behind Barry.

"Hello my Alphas," Irons said with a deep chuckle. "I've just spent the past two hours chatting with your new Captain over coffee, and I'm pleased to say he's anxious to meet and get to know his new team. So, I'd like to introduce you all to your captain, Albert Wesker. He will be the captain of Alpha Team, as well as the division leader for all of STARS, which means any more titles to his name and he'll have more authority than I do" Another chuckle.

Wesker stepped forward and nodded to Chief Irons, and turned to study the five standing in front of him. He was dressed much more accordingly now, dark grey pants tucked with boots similar to Chris's own. His shirt was navy blue, that said S.T.A.R.S . in small white letters across the breast, and buttoned up the front. It was neatly tucked into his pants, and a gun strap was across his left thigh, though no gun was in it. A pair of sunglasses hung from his breast pocket, and his blonde hair was still perfectly slicked back. When his eyes moved to Chris, he held the gaze a moment, making Chris feel uncomfortable shifting from foot to foot.

"I'm sure Wesker's got some plans to get to know each of you, and what he wants to do, so I'll leave him to it!" Irons turned to Wesker, holding out a thick hand. "Best of luck to you, you've got a fantastic team here from what I've seen and heard."

Wesker took Irons hand and shook it, nodding his thanks. Irons gave a wave to the five of them and turned, closing the common room door behind them. Wesker stood looking at them, folding his hands behind his back and beginning to pace.

"If you're all standing here, it means that Chief Irons saw something in your literary records that stood out to him. He believes you have a unique quality that he deemed useful enough to earn you a place on a new and elite team. Irons brought each of you here, and each of you he has determined as good enough for now." Wesker paused, looking again at each of them in turn. Chris shifted his weight again, and did his best to look attentive. "I am not Chief Irons."

_That's it, you're gone._ Chris thought. Wesker's voice was different than Chris had imagined it. In his head, Wesker and sounded like a news reporter, or one of those guys from the business channel on TV. Wesker's actual voice was deep, and accented ever so slightly, his tone serious. Chris wondered where he was from originally, although it was hardly noticeable.

"While you've all impressed the chief, he is not in charge of you. I am." He paced again, and Chris's eyes followed his every step. "You've all been active and occupied this week, which is good to see. It gave me time to establish myself in the captain's office, and gather together a file of information on each of you." Chris's heart did a flop, and he was alarmed to hear that Wesker had been there the entire week. _He was watching us. It was a test. Jesus, he's already pushing us and we haven't even done anything yet._ "I can assure you, my own research was much more thorough than the Chief's." He gave an almost pointed stare at Chris, and his stomach felt as if it fell through his feet. _He knows, oh god, he knows he knows I was kicked out, he knows._ So far, Chris did not at all like the feel of Wesker. He seemed strict, and hardened against any form of misbehaviour. Any and all hope of Chris' secured position on Alpha was very quickly becoming compromised, it seemed.

"Today, I'll be speaking with each of you individually in my office. Nothing too difficult for any of you, I hope." Chris heard Barry chuckle, and he looked at him, alarmed. He stole a glance of Jill too, and was again alarmed to see that she had a smile on her face. Brad and Joesph, too, seemed unbothered by their captain. Chris realized he was the only one who had anything on the line here. "I'll let you know what I expect of each of you, and it will give you an opportunity to let me know anything that you'd like me to. I'll begin with Ms. Valentine." Jill nodded, and followed Wesker to the office he now occupied. As he passed by, the smell of cologne that Chris had noticed on the subway went by with him, and it wasn't until Wesker's office door closed that Chris let himself collapse onto the couch.

"I'm so done. I'm done, I'm just finished." He said, draping an arm over his eyes. He heard Barry chuckle, and heard Brad laugh, too.

I like him." Barry said, dropping into an armchair and stretching out his legs. "I think he'll be good."

"Yeah, me too." Joesph nodded in agreement. "He seems like he's gonna get a lot done with us."

"Maybe for you guys." Chris muttered.

"Why do you say that?" Brad asked, eyebrow raised. Chris sat up and shrugged.

"I uh, no...no reason, I just..."

"Chris here has a past issue regarding authority." Barry said, smirking. Chris felt like throwing something at him.

"Oh, well, don't uh, don't disregard his authority then." Brad said with a shrug. Chris groaned and let his head fall back. After what seemed like ages, the office door opened and Jill emerged. Chris's head snapped upright, and she gave them all a grin.

"You're up Brad." Brad rose, and wandered off to the room, closing the door behind him.

"How was it? What did he say, what did he ask you?" Chris threw at her. Jill laughed, and sat where Brad had been sitting.

"It was just fine, Chris. He seems like he's going to be good for us." She nodded.

"What sorta stuff did he tell you?" Joseph asked.

"Just that we'll be focusing on organized crime and drug trade in the city." She shrugged. "Nothing overly exciting."

Chris sat anxiously until Brad came out, and all through Barry and Joseph's time in the office.

_He saved you for last._

"That will be all, thank you." Wesker flipped closed the impressive file of Barry Burton, and watched the man rise from the chair in front of him. "Send in Redfield." Barry nodded, and thanked Wesker for whatever it was he was thankful for. Whether it be for his secured position on the team, or for giving him off-hand comments on his resume, he neither knew nor cared. What Wesker was interested in was the last file sitting on the table in front of him.

_Chris Redfield._ It read, and the file was thick for such a young recruit. Wesker had not yet spoken to Chris face to face, but he recalled having seen him on the subway earlier that week. Chris Redfield's name had come up early on, his being the first name that Irons told him about. An aspiring young officer, who had been kicked off of the Air Force, covered by an interesting fiction of his 'early retirement'. _He'll be the best of all of them._ Wesker thought to himself. _And the most difficult to control._

The door of his office creaked open, and Wesker looked up at Chris, who was giving him a pale faced stare.

"Redfield. Close the door and take a seat." He flipped open the cover of Chris's file, and he could almost hear the brunette gulp. It was all Wesker could do not to smirk. Making Chris Redfield uncomfortable was the most entertaining thing Wesker had done all day.


	4. It's Official

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris gets the job, and then something weird happens...

Chris was uncharacteristically nervous, fiddling anxiously as he sat across the table from his new captain. Each member of S.T.A.R.S. Alpha was being individually assessed, in order for their captain to get to know each of his team members. Wesker was currently sitting with one arm resting in front of him on the desk, the other propped up by his elbow, fingers holding the sheets of paper, turning them slowly one by one once he finished reading. He hadn't said a word to Chris since he had first come in the room and the two had shaken hands. Chris had taken a seat and shifted his weight nervously once Wesker dropped the folder on the table and began reading through the pages. The inside of Chris's lip was numb from chewing it, knowing full well what the pages of his file said about his past. Chris had always had an issue following orders and respecting his authority figures. But this one was different somehow. Chris had, since first being introduced, had an unwavering, definite notion that he would give this captain, Albert Wesker, the required respect and loyalty.

Time spent sitting in front of Wesker was the first time Chris had really gotten to look at him. Since that first day, Chris hadn't seen Wesker on the subway again. Wesker was someone that made Chris feel overly self-conscious and very anxious. He had perfect blonde hair that decent lighting made even more enviable. Not a strand was misplaced. He was well groomed, free of stubble, and smelling like the expensive cologne Chris had smelled on the subway platform. Chris stared at the folder in Wesker's hand. _It says retired. It says it. He can't possibly know you got kicked out. He can't, he just can't._

Twenty three minutes had already gone by, and Chris's anxiety had only steadily increased. He was sitting stiffly in the chair having abandoned his usual slouch. Had it been even just one year prior, he'd have been reclined, with an arm hanging off the back of the chair the other resting on his knee. Now his back was flat against the rear of the chair, his feet flat on the floor and his hands clenched together and wedged in between his knees. Each time his Captain's brow furrowed or he frowned at the sheets or even just took a moment or two longer to read a page, Chris's body would tense, his jaw clenching...hands tightening. He would only relax once Wesker would turn to the next page, or his brow would un-furrow. Apart from those few brief movements, Wesker hardly showed any visible reaction to Chris's file.

To stop from worrying that he was about to get dismissed from the team, he studied his new captain more as he read over the file. His blue eyes traveled along the smooth, exposed skin of his captain's arm, studying the fine muscles, up to where the sleeves of the navy blue S.T.A.R.S. shirt were bunched, just at his elbow. Despite the looseness of the shirt, Chris could still see the outline of well-built biceps and broad shoulders. Though Wesker didn't look like he was all that much bigger than Chris, he actually questioned whether or not he would win in a physical fight with his captain. Wesker was taller than Chris too, by a good few inches, and Chris didn't doubt that Wesker could outrun him. The thought passed through Chris's mind as to how good a shot Wesker was, and he imagined the two of them competing in the shooting range. He wondered if he would beat him.

_If he doesn't kick my ass off the team, maybe I'll find out._

Wesker lifted his hand off the desk and ran it absent-mindedly through his hair. Chris watched him do it, then place his arm back on the table as it had been. Chris' eyes stayed on Wesker's hair, studying how perfectly blonde it was, and how not a single strand was out of place. It hadn't needed the hand run through it, and Chris wondered if that was a habit his captain had. He frowned to himself, slightly, thinking self-consciously of his own brown hair, and how it stuck up messily. _I hate buzzing my hair like all the other soldiers. I look like Jughead._ He vaguely wondered if he should try slicking his own hair back. _It'd probably look stupid if I did it._ He thought miserably. Sitting before Wesker's obsessive good looks was really doing damage to Chris's own view of himself. Just as Chris had taken his eyes off of his captain's head and started studying his hands again, he heard the file being closed and pushed aside on the table. His heart did a strange flop, and his stomach felt as though it were twisted. He looked up anxiously, and saw Wesker looking across the table at him. The blonde sat back and folded his arms across his chest. Chris spoke first.

"I – I know it isn't the...the best um, record, I guess, for a soldier to have. But, I just want you to know that I'm trying hard, really hard, actually, to put that all behind me. I want a new start, and I know it seems hopeless. I mean, my issue. With authority, and following orders, but I actually really want to be on this team. And I uh, well. Uh, you just, seem, different. You know, than my other captains. I guess." He finished, lamely, feeling a burning in his cheeks. _What's wrong with you, it's like your apologizing to your grade school teacher or something._

Wesker said nothing, and Chris couldn't tell what sort of look his captain had, since his eyes were hidden behind dark shades. A vague annoyance passed through him, realizing that he had a pet peeve of people wearing sunglasses indoors. When Chris finished his explanation, he could've sworn he saw the hints of a smirk tugging the corner of Wesker's mouth.

"I am different than your other captains, Redfield. They gave you chances and fair warning before asking you to leave. I won't." His voice had a hard edge to it. "I will not put up with disobedience or back talk. You will do as I say when I say it, or you will be without a job, and I will personally see to it that you never find another job in this field of work again. I certainly hope I am making myself clear."

Chris swallowed hard. It sounded to him as though Wesker was not immediately dismissing him. "Yes sir. I promise that I will try my best to do as you sa-"

"No, Redfield. You will not try. You just will. This is your first and only chance with me" Wesker said firmly. He hadn't raised his voice to Chris, nor had he said it rudely. His voice had a natural tone of superiority in it; it was a voice that demanded obedience. Chris swallowed again.

"Yes, sir." His hands where still clasped tightly in between his knees, and his heart was still doing strange flops in his chest. He wanted so desperately to have his captain's approval. He felt he had to prove he was a good soldier. That he wasn't just a rebellious kid.

Wesker sat a moment longer before standing up and picking up Chris' file. Chris jumped to his feet, checking his hip off the edge of the desk. He held in a grunt of pain, not wanting to show even the slightest sign of weakness, but he could feel a blush creep into his cheeks. Wesker couldn't help the smirk this time.

"I'll say this, Redfield; you have much potential. And I will see to it that I do the best I can to bring that potential out." He held out the file for Chris to take. "I am looking forward to having you on my team, Chris."

Chris couldn't help but grin, despite the throbbing pain in his hip. "I'll do my best not to let you down, sir." He said confidently, straightening himself to full height and trying his best to look impressive. "And thank you, sir. I'm looking forward to having you as my captain." He felt his ears burn pink as soon as he had said it. Wesker took his seat again, still smirking to himself, as Chris turned to rejoin his team, still smiling to himself. He had gotten his captain's approval, and that was good enough for him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Cheers to us, guys and Jill." Barry tipped his head towards Jill, raising his glass a bit higher to her. She laughed and tipped her glass at him, too. "We're all officially accepted by our straight-faced captain. For some of us," Barry's eyes flicked to Chris, and Chris smirked and shook his head. "this is a very welcome surprise. So, in honor of our newly found superiority within the crime stopping community, congratulations to us, S.T.A.R.S. Alpha!" The five of them held their glasses up and clinked them together. Jill, Joseph, Barry, Chris and Brad all sat around a small round table at the Raccoon Pub, two blocks from the RPD. Barry had instantly demanded that they all go out for drinks. Wesker had declined, saying he had some final paper work to fill out to make Alpha official. There was a S.T.A.R.S. dinner party the following Saturday, being held by Chief Irons. but Barry hadn't wanted to wait.

Between them all, a plate of nachos, a round of beers and two huge plates of chicken wings sat on the table. Chris hadn't believed that they were his new team; he hadn't believed Wesker hadn't kicked him out. He barely knew the man, but just in that brief time alone with him, Chris hadn't gotten the impression that he was very understanding.

"I, for one, am excited to see what sort of stuff we'll be doing." Jill said, taking a handful of nachos and stuffing them into her mouth. Chris smiled at her; for a girl, she sure could eat.

"Me too." Brad added, munching on a carrot stick. "I just hope Wesker, you know, assigns us right. Er, appropriately." Brad, Chris was coming to know, was the quiet one of the bunch. Rooted in science, Chris knew he would be much more comfortable sitting behind a computer than running with a gun.

"I'm sure our captain won't make you marksman, don't you worry." Jill said, patting him on the arm. Joseph laughed.

"Oh, I think I know who'll get that specific honor." Barry nodded to Chris. Jill and Brad turned to look at him too. Chris shook his head, taking a deep sip of beer.

"There is not one chance in hell." He said, truly believing it. "I'm lucky I'm here at all."

"C'mon, why are you being so hard on yourself?" Jill asked. Chris sighed. _If I'm here with them for good, they at least deserve to know. They're your team._

"Well…I haven't been entirely honest." He said, glancing around the bar. It was a loud, rowdy place, filled with all sorts of Raccoon city locals. "I sort of, um…before this, I uh…"

"Oh, just spit it out, will ya?" Barry laughed. "Chris got kicked out of the Air Force before this." Chris almost choked on his mouthful of beer.

"Barry!" He coughed. Jill's eyes were wide and Brad's jaw dropped.

"How exactly do you get 'kicked out' of the Air Force?" Jill asked, incredulously. Chris made a face at Barry, annoyance filling him. Barry was a loud mouth when he'd been drinking.

"It's, it's really not…" Chris sighed. "I didn't want to take shit from them, so they didn't take shit from me. They gave me one last chance; I blew it, end of." He frowned, and stuffed some more nachos into his mouth. Frustration was swelling inside in towards Barry, and he was going to give him hell later.

"Chris, that's really-"

"Look, just drop it." Chris snapped at Jill. The chair screeched against the floor as Chris pushed away from the table and turned, stalking out of the grill. His heart was pounding in his chest, and it didn't slow until her reached the cool autumn breeze outside. _Fuck._ Already, he was regretting snapping at Jill. She was just curious, as anyone would be hearing about someone who got kicked out of the Air Force. _Probably wondering how I held my shit against a tight ass like Wesker._

The thought of his captain made the fit of anger he'd just felt swell a bit more. The conversation between him and his newest superior had been sitting uncomfortably in his mind all day. _Stupid son of a bitch thinks he can scare me into doing whatever he wants…_ Chris closed his eyes and breathed. _No. No no no, he's just doing what any captain would do. He gave you a chance. He kept you here._ Chris felt jittery, and he instinctively patted his pockets, pulling out his box of smokes and shaking one free. Once the cigarette was lit, he inhaled deeply and let his eyes closed.

_No, he took his god damned time, he made you wait. He's going to be a fucking god damn motherfucking…_

"Chris!" The hand on his arm, and voice next to him made him jump. His angry, rambling thoughts had been consuming him so much that he hadn't even noticed Jill chase after him. Her cheeks were pink from the cool air, and her brown hair was tossed by the wind. September was cool this year, and Chris was worried about how cold winter would be. Jill hadn't grabbed her jacket, so she hadn't anticipated running halfway up the street. _She didn't have to run after you, but she did._

"Hey, I'm sorry, I-"

"No, I'm the one that's sorry." Jill interrupted. "I had no business prying like that. Barry obviously said something he wasn't supposed to say, and then I had to go and carry on with it. It was stupid on my part, so…I'm sorry." She was still out of breath from jogging after him, and Chris felt like a huge asshole. He sighed, taking a drag on the cigarette, before dropping it and stubbing it out with the toe of his boot.

"It's fine, I'm just not used to people knowing about it." A wave of guilt went over him. It's Barrys fault, not hers. "Just, just don't tell anyone else, okay?"

"Of course I won't." Jill folded her arms across her chest. She was wearing the plain blue S.T.A.R.S. t-shirt, and the cool breeze must have been getting to her. "You gonna come back?"

Chris thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "I'm tired." He said by way of excuse. "I think I'm going to head back to the station and collapse." Jill nodded, but Chris could have sworn she seemed…disappointed? _She's only just met you, don't be an idiot._ "I'll uh, I'll see you tomorrow. I guess."

"Yeah." Jill nodded, again. "See you." With a smile, she turned and jogged back to the bar entrance. Chris sighed.

That was the second conversation of the day that he knew he'd be thinking about for the entire weekend.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was one in the morning when Chris finally collapsed in bed. He'd gotten back to the police station an hour and a half earlier, but had been so cold he decided to take a hot shower. The Alpha common room had been vacant, all its usual occupants back at the bar. Chris hadn't the faintest clue where Wesker was, nor did he particularly care. Probably planning our rounds of torture for the following week. He thought, glumly. Chris had the impending feeling that Wesker was going to pick on him. The light in both Wesker's office and bedroom were off when Chris had walked by, and he was the only one in the bathroom. He had seen any activity in the gym or pool area, and hadn't walked by him upstairs either. Probably just went home.

It was Friday night, and Chris was happy that they had the weekend off. Wesker had informed them that normally, they were free to go home for the weekend and return to work on Monday. They would be on-call at all times, but if they weren't on duty during the week or running patrols or investigating cases, the team was allowed to do as they pleased. Chris planned on taking a lot of power naps whenever his movements around the city took him anywhere near his apartment.

The room was dark, and the sheets were cool from the artificial air that circulated the dorm rooms. Chris found himself almost wishing he hadn't come back alone, although even if he hadn't, he still would have ended up lying in bed by himself in the cold. Chris felt his eyes going heavy, and was in the beginning phases of drifting off to sleep, until he heard the footsteps in the hallway.

At first, Chris imagined it was Brad and Joseph, half carrying, half dragging a drunk Barry to the double room, or maybe Jill…no. Not Jill. The steps were two heavy. And silent. Chris frowned into the darkness and opened his eyes. The room was clearer now, though only visible in shades of grey, marked in shadow. _It also doesn't make sense because my room is at the end of the hall._ Chris frowned to himself, propping his weight on a bent arm. Though his eyes had adjusted, he still had to squint to see the shadow of someone's feet standing just outside his doorway.

_Who…_ The only one there that he knew of was Wesker. At least, that was the only person who made sense. _But why in the hell would he stand outside my door while I'm sleeping._

Chris found himself holding his breath. _Maybe he thinks I'm drunk and passed out in my own vomit, or…_ The footsteps moved down the fall, fading, and followed by the sound of the door at the end of the hallway closing. The brunette exhaled in the darkness, and collapsed back against the pillows.

_Well, that was fucking weird._


	5. Bruising Over

Wesker roughly grabbed Chris and threw him on the floor. Chris grunted and dodged before his newest captain could land a swift kick to his stomach. He got to his feet quickly, but stumbled in trying to steady himself. It was just enough time for him to see Wesker run at him, but not enough time to defend himself against the oncoming attack. Chris was tackled and sent skidding backwards until he slammed in the wall, grunting again at the impact.

"Redfield, come on! You can do it!" He recognized Jill's voice. He would have smiled if he hadn't been in pain. It had only been one week and a half of knowing her, but he already felt closer with her than he did with any of the other members of his team, except perhaps Barry. The way she looked at him had a certain weight to it, of that much Chris was certain. Although he was desperate to act on it while he still saw it, a fear of ruining his chances and jumping the gun too soon prevented him.

"Capitano is kicking your ass, Redfield!" He also recognized the gruff voice of Barry Burton, followed by his deep laughter. Of course Barry would point out the obvious in front of the team; anything to make Chris look like he wasn't as strong as he made out to be. Clutching his side, he rolled his eyes, making a mental note to take a stab at fighting Barry later. Chris'd show him how strong he was.

"Had enough, Redfield, or shall I keep this up?" Wesker could hardly contain the smugness in his voice. Chris turned to face him, narrowing his eyes. Wesker smirked at him. Chris hadn't landed a single punch on him.

"I'm just having a bit of a slow day, is all." He said, defensively. "But I'm not finished yet."

"Oooh, tough man, tough man." Barry taunted. Chris flexed his arms, hearing the bones in his elbow crack. He had a stitch in his side, and he was pretty sure he was going to have a golf ball sized lump on the back of his head where it had hit the wall. Wesker had taken several steps back and was stretching his arms out.

He cocked his head to the side and smirked at Chris again. "As you wish."

Chris returned the defiant smirk, and ran at Wesker, swinging his arm forwards to land a punch in Wesker's face, but his captain easily dodged the hit, pushing Chris's arm aside and landing a punch with his other hand dead in Chris's middle. He doubled over in pain, gasping for breath. Wesker put a hand on Chris's shoulder and brought his knee up hard into Chris's chest, then grabbed him by the front of his shirt and threw him backwards. Chris hit the ground and rolled, finally skidding to a stop against the wall.

"Okay, okay!" He gasped, raising his arm to the general direction in which he thought Wesker stood. "No more. I'm done." He heard Barry laugh. But over that, he heard Jill call to him, asking if he were alright. Despite the aching pains all over his body, this made him feel marginally better. _Maybe she'd give him a massage later,_ he thought hopefully. _You're dreamin' pal._

Wesker walked over to him. "Now have you had enough?"

Barry laughed from his spot against the far wall. He and Jill had been leaning against it, watching Chris and Wesker train. Chris' annoyance rose, and he thought Barry had laughed quite enough for that day.

Chris heaved himself into a sitting position, clutching his stomach. "Yeah yeah." He sighed, looking away. Wesker stopped once he stood in front of Chris. He looked at him a moment, and then offered his hand to Chris, who took it. Wesker pulled him to his feet, and Chris was surprised at his strength. _He is stronger than me,_ Chris thought, although he would never say it out loud.

"You'll improve in time, Chris. You have the potential." Another smirk, before turning to leave. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're obsessing."

"I'm not obsessing," Chris said with a wince. Sitting half slouched, half bent over in the coffee shop down the street, he creased his brows as an ache went through the darkening bruise on his side.

The two were sitting at a table towards the window with steaming cups of Hazelnut Cream coffee in front of them. Training had been completed for the day, and the effects of the practice fight with Wesker were really making themselves felt. Jill, who had fought Brad, had sustained no injuries, owing partially to the fact that she was so agile in dodging his attacks, and partially because, Chris suspected, Brad hadn't wanted to hit the only girl.

"Then stop talking about it." She said with a smirk. Leaning against the chair, she had her arms crossed and smiled smugly at him. Chris scowled and pretended the bruises didn't faze him as he sat forwards to sip from his coffee.

_I'm going to ache for weeks, and he's just gonna keep smirking at me if I show it. Asshole._

"I haven't fought anyone in a while, that's the only reason he beat me up so easily." He said as he sipped. Jill gave him a skeptical look, and twirled the cup jacket around the drink. Chris was feeling fidgety and nervous; was it really so abnormal to be obsessing so heavily over a test fight with his Captain?

"Uh huh."

"I'll get him just wait." Drinking from the steaming cup, Chris pulled a face. "What is this shit?" Jill laughed.

"Hazelnut, it's delicious."

"It tastes the way Christmas smells."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The S.T.A.R.S. common room was unusually quiet that evening, and Chris had written it off to everyone being so exhausted from their physical drill work all week. Both Wesker and Enrico, the Bravo captain, had been testing their members to see where they fit best in the team. While Chris felt he had done terribly on the written paperwork, he felt he had at least proven something in fighting Wesker. Still aching from the first fight, he was determined to challenge Wesker tomorrow.

_I proved I don't back down for anyone._ He thought, stubbornly.

_Oh, but you did._ Replied the annoying voice in the back of his mind. Sighing, he adjusted himself on the couch. Not wanting to linger alone in the Alpha room, he had decided to sit here and find out what he could from Bravo about their training. This, however, had proven a fruitless exercise, as the only company he had was the bubbling of a fishtank that someone had thought would be a more comfortable addition to the room.

Throwing away the training manual he had been reading, Chris rose gingerly to his feet. The bruise on his side protested at the movement, and he had to pause before walking over to the Alpha common room door. It squeaked as he pushed it open, and closed with a soft thud. More silence greeted him here, broken only by the ever-droning hum of the air circulation system.

Sighing to himself, Chris resigned to the evening alone, with nothing much to do but flip through old magazines of weaponry information, and dwell on the dull throbbing which accompanied his wounds. A thought crossed lazily through his mind of the hot tub which sat in the corner of the pool room. Meant to give some reprieve after several hours worth of laps in the pool, the hot tub was frequented the most by Jill, who enjoyed resting in there after she had finished in the cool water.

_It'd help._ Chris thought, and craving some way to improve the quality of his bruises, went and grabbed his swimming trunks, then made his way to the bubbling hot water.

Lowering himself slowly, he settled in amongst the steaming water, leaning against the back of the tub and letting his eyes drift shut. Sitting in peaceful silence, Chris was halfway asleep when he heard a loud splash.

With a jolt, he sat up in the pool, only to see a long, lean figure moving its way gracefully across the pool. The steam rising from the hot tub was at least partially concealing Chris, and he moved as silently as he could to lean forwards to investigate the shape in the pool. Identifying the figure was near impossible, as they swam so fast and smoothly that Chris couldn't even tell if it was Jill or not.

He watched intently as the figure front-stroked two…four…eight…twelve laps in remarkably fast time. It was only once the figure paused at the opposite end of the pool to catch their breath, that Chris realized with a thrill of excitement that it was Wesker. A grin slid onto Chris' face, and disappeared almost as quickly as it had come.

_What the fuck is wrong with you?_ Shooting his eyes away from Wesker and slouching down in the hot water again, Chris frowned and found himself deeply concerned with his initial reaction. The only other person he got excited about finding himself in a room alone with like that was Jill _…but that's fucking stupid, that's because Jill's hot. You don't think Wesker's hot, you're not into guys, you just…_

_Oh, oh but you do think Wesker's attractive,_ the voice in the back of his head said; the voice that seemed more and more to be leading Chris into discomfort.

_Yes, well, so what, that doesn't mean…_

But what did it mean? What did it mean, Chris wondered, that the few times he'd found himself alone with is captain he'd been excited and nervous and anxious to impress him.

Chris shut his eyes tightly, and began thinking about guns and ammo, and put all his energy into not thinking about the sounds of the water, as his captain moved gracefully through it. This was a successful tactic for the next half hour, his thoughts being interrupted by periodic pauses of the splashing water.

Chris fought the urge to turn around and watch his captain swim, and he managed to resist…but once he heard the sounds of Wesker getting out of the pool, Chris's resolve broke. As quietly as he could, Chris leaned forwards to peer over at Wesker through the steam. His captain was facing away from him, and had walked over to the bench where the towel sat.

As Wesker was patting his face off, Chris's eyes trailed down the muscular outline of his captain's back, feeling a burning in his face and the guilt creeping up again, but found himself unable to look away, just as he had felt the first day on the subway.

Wesker moved the towel up to his head and brushed it over his hair, momentarily displacing it, until a strong hand was run through it, putting it back into it's perfect condition. Chris briefly panicked at the idea of Wesker turning around and seeing him, but he didn't. He just walked straight over to the change room and disappeared inside, leaving a pink-faced Chris sitting amongst bubbling hot water, and feeling very confused indeed.


	6. Potential

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was a week between this and the last chapter. I've finally finished editing/re-uploading from FF.net, so I actually have to think about what I'm doing now! The next chapter should be up soon.

Messy sheets and displaced pillows were a distant memory of the restless sleep Chris Redfield had gotten the night before, and the S.T.A.R.S. uniform against his muscled frame made him look tidy and formal against the messy bed. One boot was slung over his knee, and the knot in the laces seemed impossible in Chris's cold, shaking fingers. Barry stood in the doorway, arms crossed and shaking his head. Today was it, the day Wesker gave them their official ranks in S.T.A.R.S. so that they could each begin formal field work. Today was the day Chris had been worried about for the last two weeks. The first hump had been getting past the interview with Wesker, the next had been trying not to mess anything up during their evaluation period. Chris was finally at the worst one; getting a rank. Wesker had been running them all through exercises and drills and tests, doing everything from combat to computer work and Chris was exhausted. Since his hot tub encounter with Wesker in the pool, he had been doing everything he could to avoid being alone with Wesker to put aside the complicated feeling he had found himself having around him.

"Come on, Redfield, let's go. Making Wesker wait for us isn't gonna make him promote you to marksman, y'know." The smirk on Barry's face was evident in the tone, and Chris knotted his shoe before slamming his foot on the floor.

"Our captain's already made up his mind no matter what I do."

Barry threw his hands up in mock defense, laughing."Alright, alright, cool it okay? I just mean you've been doing fine, Chris." The joking was gone, and had been replaced with what sounded to be true sincerity. "Compared to how I remember you around new captains even just a few years ago, you've really mellowed out when it comes to following orders."

Sighing, Chris rose from the sheets and adjusted his uniform. "Thanks, I guess. Let's just go, find out what we're doing." Walking across the room and joining Barry, Chris pulled his door shut behind him and the pair made their way to the common room. Once there they found Jill, Brad, and Joseph sitting on a few of the couches, all in their uniforms and looking relatively at ease. _How is it I'm the only one Wesker has intimidated the crap out of._ Chris thought sourly. Almost as if he had known what Chris was thinking, Wesker strode into the room from the main S.T.A.R.S. common area and threw Chris a tired look.

"Redfield, Burton, take a seat and stay a while." Barry laughed and mock bowed in Wesker's direction, and Chris dropped down onto one of the hard plastic chairs that surround the large table in the room. _At least Wesker's in a good mood._ Although he was quickly learning that a good mood for Wesker was saying something either sarcastic or condescending, but usually both and usually directed at Chris. 

Wesker stood tall and lean in his navy blue and black captain's uniform, his usual sunglasses perched on his face, and his smooth blonde hair perfectly arranged. "I'll make this quick as I have a lot of information and paperwork to do with Enrico once you've all been given your assignments. Following this morning, all of S.T.A.R.S. will join in the main common area and go over their positions with others who have been given similar rankings. After that, you'll begin a basic run-through of what each of your individual duties will consist of. Some of that will involve working alone, some working with other members of S.T.A.R.S., and some will involve working with me." Chris gulped. "Once you've received your ranks, make your way to the common area and wait for Enrico and myself." Dropping the folder he had been holding on to the table beside him, Wesker took a sweeping look around at each of them. _Oh god, here we go._

"Joseph Frost - omni-man. You're maintenance supervisor, and you'll be working with Forest Spayer on team Bravo." Joseph nodded, appreciatively. Chris felt a pang of jealousy, as he'd grown rather close to Forest, even having a friendly shooting competition the other night.

"Brad Vickers - rear-security. You're to be Alpha's pilot and tech expert. Edward Dewey will be working with you a lot on the helicopters, so you will be accompanying him to the landing area instead of the gym this afternoon." An audible sigh came from Brad which made Jill smile and Barry shake his head. Brad had chickened out of several fights, and had been the only person to tap out of fighting Wesker before it had even begun. _Lucky guy._ Chris thought. 

"Jill Valentine - rear security. As you've shown remarkable skill in the stealth related drills, you'll be the breaking and entering specialist. You have a unique talent so most of your work will be done on your own, but you and Rebecca Chambers will be in charge of crime scene analysis among S.T.A.R.S." A grin spread across Jill's features, making her eyes light up beautifully. Chris felt a small warmth towards her, and he knew she had gotten exactly what he wanted.

"Barry Burton, I hardly think it necessary to inform you that your knowledge and extensive history among firearms makes you a valuable asset to both teams, which is why you'll be back-up, as well as weapons supervisor." Barry straightened in his seat and gave a formal nod to Wesker. "Thank you sir, I won't let you down." But Chris could see a triumphant grin struggling to take place on Burton's face. Chris sighed to himself and turned an anxious look to Wesker.

"And that leaves you, Redfield. Your history paints a colourful picture of your work ethic, and I'm to be held responsible for how well Alpha runs as a team." Chris struggled to read the expression in Wesker's face, but it was unreadable which frustrated Chris to no-end. "You'll be co-pilot, and go out with Vickers and Dewey this evening to learn about the flight layout. But before that you'll be spending quite some time with me." A pause. "Marksman and S.T.A.R.S. sharpshooter." Chris felt an enormous weight lifted off his chest and Barry nudged him. "All of you are dismissed." Wesker said casually, turning and striding back in the direction of the S.T.A.R.S. common area, leaving Chris absolutely stunned.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Marksman? Shit, Redfield, alright alright. _Maybe_ you're better with a gun than me, but only by fluke chance." Forest said playfully. "Everyone here knows that woulda been me if I were on Alpha." Chris sat waiting for Enrico and Wesker return from their debriefing with Irons upstairs and was shaking his head in disbelief.

"He fucks around with you Chris, but he's not an idiot. If he made anyone but you the marksman it would've been a mistake." Barry glanced around timidly at the rest of Alpha and Bravo. "No offence."

"It's quite the honor, being the pointman for such a specialized team." Kenneth Sullivan agreed. He had been made the marksman for Bravo and had clapped Chris on the back in congratulations when they all met together.

"So now what, we all work together but we don't?" Questioned Richard who stood pulling at the straps on his weapon's holster.

"Wesker told us yesterday that we work as a team, but take 24-hours shifts so sometimes we'll all be really busy, and sometimes we'll all be really bored." Jill said, shrugging. "All I know for sure is we have to keep a constant stream of communication between the teams but we each act more or less independently. And we get our guns today." Another shrug and she smiled. Chris was feeling overwhelmed but relieved. Marksman had been exactly the rank he wanted, and exactly the rank he had been convinced he wouldn't receive. Sure, he was good with a gun, but his history...how does someone who got fired from the Air Force be given a rank like marksman? Wesker and Enrico finally came back, Enrico smiling and nodding at them, Wesker as tight lipped as always.

"Hello S.T.A.R.S.! And first off, congratulations on all of your hard work. You deserve to be where you are, and we're all going to be doing wonderful things for Raccoon City. I hope to get to know all of you as well as you will get to know each other." Enrico announced cheerfully. "I hope you've all gotten the chance to become acquainted with one another. S.T.A.R.S. is still relatively new to Raccoon City, but Captain Wesker is working very hard to ensure all the complications get sorted out. Although our training starts now, as well as our work and movements within the city, S.T.A.R.S. will not be officially announced at a press conference until January 1996." All the men and two women sat quietly and raptly, Chris letting his eyes drift over everyone else. When they roamed their way around the room to Wesker, Chris's eyes met Wesker's own, and Chris felt unsettled at the discovery that his captain was already watching him. _Has he been staring at you the entire time?_

"...along with Redfield." Snapping his eyes back to Enrico, Chris must have looked clueless, but Barry came to his rescue having noticed his young friend was daydreaming.

"Alright, c'mon marksman. It's off to the armory for the three of us." Nodding at Wesker, their captain gave them a slight nod, and turned to lead them into the police department itself. Once there, Wesker spoke to Barry for several moments about the armory, how to organize it and how to keep track of weapons distribution. Finally he handed Barry two large metallic cases and told Wesker to go and give them to each S.T.A.R.S. unit, pulling two of the guns out before sending him off.

Standing alone with Wesker in the large empty room, Chris let his eyes wander and quickly became engrossed in studying and memorizing every type of weapon in the room. Wesker moved over to him and handed him one of the guns.

"A Beretta 92F made for S.T.A.R.S. by Joe Kendo. I assume despite your brief time living in the city that you'll have heard that name by now?" Wesker asked. Chris nodded and turned the handgun over in his hand. It was beautiful and weighty, but not overly heavy. It would have a good grip and a steady shot, and Chris looked forward to being given the opportunity to use it. 

"Yeah, I've heard of him, sir. I think Barry's good friends with his brother." Chris recalled Barry speaking in rapid tones about how talented the local gun store owner was, and how he wanted one of everything he could get his hands on.

"As marksman I expect you to train diligently, as you will be accompanying me on all high profile assignments." Wesker paused to turn and study Chris. His own weapon already sat comfortably in the holster, making Wesker's authoritative appearance become more intimidating, even to Chris. "Do you know why I made you marksmen, Redfield?"

Chris paused, sensing a trick question in some way. _Don't be a wiseass. Don't make it sound like you even might be a wiseass._ "Be...cause I'm good with a gun?" He asked, wearily. Wesker nodded slightly, but his expression remained the same.

"Why else?"

"I uh..." Without a clue as to what it was Wesker wanted him to say, every possibility that entered Chris' mind sounded sarcastic and challenging. Despite the shades Wesker wore, even indoors, Chris knew he was staring at him and waiting for his answer. Wesker's fixation with Chris, from making him fight and run and shoot more than anyone else, and to always seeming to place him on the spot frustrated Chris to no end, and the fact that Wesker was so damn hard to read did nothing to help his feelings. "Be....cause you're the captain, and you can?"

A twitch at the corner of Wesker's mouth almost betrayed the hard stare he was giving Chris, and for just a fraction of a second, Chris thought he might've almost made his captain smile.

"Because you're better than they are, Redfield. Besides myself, you're the best shot here." A pause, looking from Chris to the weapons around him, then back to Chris. "And because you have the most potential." A dull blush settled in Chris' cheeks, even though Wesker's tone was as serious as always.

"Uh, thanks, Captain Wesker." Pause. The desire to seem nonchalant yet respectful was battling with his urge to ask Wesker why he treated Chris differently. _Does he even treat you differently? Or are you making it up?_ "I er, I won't let you down." This seemed to amuse Wesker, because this time he did smirk.

"No, you won't. I meant what I said Redfield. I'm not your other captains." Arms folded across his chest, Wesker stood in silence for a moment, before striding off towards the door. "Time for a debriefing. Don't be late, I don't think that would make a very good impression on your captain, do you?" Chris was confused, and then ran to the door and past a smirking Wesker who Chris realized was joking around with him. _At least, I think he's joking._ With Wesker, Chris could never tell. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day had been spent doing a lot of a listening, and a lot of nodding and asking questions. Wesker had filled in everyone on the casework they'd be starting on over the next few days, and training days were done. Armed and trained and assigned, S.T.A.R.S. was finally ready to begin what the teams had been gathered to do, and everyone was feeling the dull pulse of nervous excitement. Finally the chance to get out and make a change, make a difference had finally arrived. Irons had come by to talk with both Enrico and Wesker, while the rest of them had run through some drills in the large, well stocked gym. Despite not really doing all that much, Chris still felt exhausted as the day winded to a close, and people started parting ways to go to sleep. Jill had gone out and picked up some pizzas for them to share, but Wesker had declined and disappeared into his office. Currently, Chris was sitting at the table in the Alpha common room with Jill and Forest chatting casually about the work they'd be starting.

"At least most of it is in house stuff, although Raccoon City is bigger than it looks." Forest said, dropping his napkin onto his grease stained plate. "Enrico said Bravo's gonna be doing a lot of the West side stuff, so lots of travelling on our part. Are you guys going to sleep here a lot, or try and sleep at home?"

"Whichever is most convenient, I guess. Based on where in the city our work takes us." Jill replied, gathering their dirty plates together. Chris tossed the pizza box lid shut, and crossed the room to put it away in their small fridge, already filled with bits of food, beer, and water bottles. Standing and stretching, Forest yawned and made his way slowly over to the main exit back to the Bravo common room, and bid Jill and Chris goodnight.

"You going to sleep yet?" asked Jill casually. Chris felt his heart leap and thought maybe she wanted to spend some time with him.

"Nah, I think I might stay up a while longer, maybe go for a quick swim or...something..." he offered, hoping she'd take the hint and agree to join him.

"Well you've got more energy than I do, then. I'm pooped." Rising to her feet, Jill stretched, exposing a sliver of skin around her waist. Chris felt mildly discouraged that she didn't suggest swimming laps with him, but her yawn seemed genuine enough so Chris wished her goodnight, and watched as she disappeared down the hall. Giving the semi-tidy room a shrug, Chris strode over towards the pool. His swim trunks had been left on the water heater to dry, and Chris changed into them quickly, before going and diving into the pool. The water felt cool and smooth as he glided through it. Swimming had never been his strong suit, but Chris enjoyed being in the water anyways. Back and forth he went, flipping over at each end until he came to a stop, panting from the effort. Glancing up at the clock in the pool, Chris was surprised to learn that an hour had gone by. Rising out of the water, he shivered and realized he hadn't brought a towel. Sighing to himself, Chris eyed the hot tub. _It's just you in here._ Unable to resist the steaming water, he walked over to the dial on the wall, turned on the bubbles for 20 minutes and lowered himself in, closing his eyes.

Only a few minutes had passed when Chris heard the squeak of the change-room door open and close, and he opened an eye to see who was coming in for a swim. He figured it shouldn't have surprised him at all when he saw it was Wesker. His captain wore nothing but black swim shorts and a tight black t-shirt. Allowing his eyes to linger, Chris sunk down among the steam and foaming water, heart pounding. The blonde didn't take any notice of Chris, but instead stretched, pulling each arm across his body, and rolling his neck back and forth, eyes closed. _It's late, he probably thinks he's alone._ The way the hot tub was indented in the wall allowed Chris to be partially hidden, and gave him a good view of Wesker who was in the process of pulling his shirt off to jump in the pool.

_Alright, stop staring at your captain._ But he couldn't bring himself to look away as Wesker threw the shirt aside. It was as if Chris was entranced by watching his captain, some part of his brain was confused and unsettled by this fascination with him, and the other part just wanted to stare. Wesker's chest was broad, his stomach toned and well defined. Among the confusing things Chris felt as he sat in the hot water, one of them was jealousy at the perfect form his captain had. Chris wasn't as broad, and his arms weren't as big, his stomach not as flat and defined. It wasn't that Chris wasn't fit, but that Wesker was more so. _Better than you in every way, except at the shooting range._ When Wesker dove into the water, he barely caused any disturbance, and it was several moments before he resurfaced halfway down the pool and began swimming. The way the water remained so seemingly undisturbed amazed Chris, along with the smooth way Wesker appeared to glide through the water.

Chris settled back against the wall, hiding behind the small corner so that Wesker wouldn't see him sitting there. _Well who gives a fuck, pretend your napping or relaxing._ But knowing Wesker, he'd probably make some offhand comment about Chris spending so much time alone in the hot water. A pattern was emerging with the way Wesker spoke to Chris, which made Chris's desire to be respectful of his captain strained. The sound of Wesker's movements in the water mixed with the hot water really did lull Chris into a nap, his mind full of thoughts of Wesker...taking his shirt off...diving into the water...the way everything about him was just so...so...

A loud click of the dial signaled the tub's time going off, and the sudden calmness in the small pool of hot water jolted Chris into wakefulness, his mind groggy with thoughts of his captain swimming, and a dull warmth that had settled in his stomach. Paranoia about the loud noise announcing his presence made Chris carefully lean his head around just enough to see Wesker pulling himself out of the pool. The blonde's hair was askew, but he fixed that quickly, grabbing the towel and patting his hair dry. The heat in Chris's stomach shot right down to his crotch, where he felt an erection grow. Deep red flooded Chris's cheeks, but he continued watching Wesker towel off. The swim shorts clung to him and Chris let his eyes linger on everything the damp cloth showed off. Despite the confusing feelings, Chris felt a throb between his legs that he was finding difficult to ignore.

Waiting until Wesker disappeared and the sound of the change-room door closing echoed throughout the room, Chris heaved himself out of the hot water, grabbed a towel that someone had discarded at the side of the room and scurried back through the Alpha common room and down the hall until he was safe in his room. Passing the change-room he had heard the shower running and thought _no way in hell am I showering near Wesker with an erection I got from watching him swim_. His heart skipped a beat as this thought went through his mind. Peeling off his swim shorts and dropping into bed nude and aroused, he stared up at his ceiling with a whole bunch of confused thoughts running through his mind, the only clear one being the way Wesker looked when he got out of the pool.

Heart pounding and mind racing, Chris slid a hand between his legs and began stroking himself. The feeling of giving in sent an electric shock through his body, and the knowledge that it was _Wesker_ who made him this hard only furthered his excitement. Simultaneously trying to fill his mind with thoughts of the pool, and work out why he felt this way battled in his mind, Chris shoved all of the confusing feelings away and let himself just feel good. _...besides, you haven't even jerked it since you got here..._ the thought was a hazy one, but it was all the justification he needed as he let his eyes close. Chris kept going, letting swimming pool thoughts come over him, and the thought of what would happen if Wesker happened to get in the hot tub with him...

The movements of his hand sped up as he let his mind drift further and further away, until he felt his climax rise suddenly to the surface. He came hard, feeling hot, sticky liquid on his stomach and he lay there panting, opening his eyes and staring up the ceiling. Inside his ears was a dull buzzing noise and his vision seemed to dance in front of his eyes. _Well, you did it. You jerked off thinking about Albert Wesker in the swimming pool. Fuck._


	7. That's Where You Come In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Wesker take their first assignment together, and it leaves Chris more than a bit...unsatisfied.

Breakfast the next morning was large and filling, with a huge plate of scrambled eggs, a huge plate of bacon, and an entire toasted loaf of bread. The smells of coffee and orange juice lingered in the air, and S.T.A.R.S. Alpha all sat together around the table eating their fill. Wesker sat at the head of the table, wearing his captain's uniform, badge on his chest and weapon in his holster. The glasses he normally wore sat hanging from his breast pocket, and he seemed relatively relaxed, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, and a large report folder propped open against his crossed knee in the other. Everyone else was chatting about this and that, with Barry acting the role of father and making sure everyone had food and coffee to drink. Chris was the only one who sat quietly, munching on his toast and doing everything he could avoid looking at Wesker, and avoid thinking of the previous night.

 _You were just horny and confused and tired and...and..._ Abandoning the eggs he'd been trying to spear with his fork he turned to his coffee and took a deep sip. _Just stop thinking about it, think about today instead. Your first day of field work, your first day acting as a member of S.T.A.R.S....your first day working right beside..._ God, why did Wesker come up in every thought? Ever since he'd taken notice of him on the subway platform a month and a half ago Chris had been wildly confused about why these feelings kept arising towards his captain. He barely knew him, and what he did know of him the most he could tell was Wesker didn't care about being an asshole, wanted to get the work done, and wouldn't tolerate shit from anyone. Particularly Chris. Although it had been mostly training, Wesker only really seemed to pick out Chris's mistakes and errors. To everyone else, he would offer constructive criticism, or helpful advice. But Chris was always doing something wrong, something half-assed, something...

"Alright, finish up and meet in the board room in ten minutes." Wesker announced, rising from his seat and left in the direction of his office, coffee mug in hand. Chris sighed, and gave up on trying to eat, rising with his team-mates and helping to clear everything off the table. As they'd come to breakfast armed and ready, aside from putting the dishes in the sink for later, they slowly made their way over to the meeting room. Taking a seat beside Jill, Chris stretched and leaned forwards on the table against crossed arms. Barry, Brad and Joseph were in a deep conversation about an article they'd read about some rock group or another that Chris really had no opinion on. His eyes flicked to Jill, who was running a lock-pick in between her fingers deftly. Hidden by his folded arms, Chris smiled at the action. _The girl likes what she likes._ The door to the room was shut, causing the conversation to die off and Chris to lift his head and watch Wesker stride around the table to the head, a file-folder under his arm.

"Day one." he said, dropping the file onto the long table and crossing his arms. "Nothing too difficult as of yet. Crime in Raccoon City is surprisingly low. Irons has informed me that gang activity has been muted. He believes it to be on account of word about the formation of S.T.A.R.S." Flipping open the cover of the report, Wesker lay the first three sheets out, each with a large photo of a high level gang member, and their bios underneath. They had each been given these earlier in the week to read over, and instructed by Wesker to memorize every detail of their profiles. Naturally, Chris had skimmed them, losing two of them in the process, with the other having fallen underneath his bed. Regretting it now, dreading the idea of Wesker demanding he give the briefing, Chris began bouncing his knee nervously under the table.

"That being said, Alpha will be tracking and gathering information on these three gentleman. Valentine, where does Brenner live?"

Jill straightened and cleared her throat. "He's usually spotted in West Raccoon City, where he owns several restaurants and food stores. Whether or not he actually lives there has yet to be confirmed, but we do know he frequents a woman named Eleanor Phillips in that area, and her address is known." Wesker nodded, sliding the paper with the short, gruff looking Todd Brenner across the table to her.

"Good. You and Mr. Burton will be in that area. I want an address for him, as well as any other place he may occupy. I've been informed he has a suspected apartment in the area as well, but I'd like a visual confirmation of that." Jill looked to Barry and the pair nodded.

"Volicki, Frost."

"Mario Volicki spends a lot of time communicating with Brenner, but he lives more north-west. He lives on the extreme north end of the suburbs, address 400 Dockland Avenue." Wesker nodded again, sliding the paper in between Frost and Vickers. _Crap crap crap crap crap._ Chris thought to himself. _That leaves the gang boss, Lou...Lou...ah shit, shit! Lou something and he lives uh...uh....._

"Redfield." Chris looked at him, wide-eyed and cleared his throat. "Parcini." _Ah, that's it! Lou Parcini._

"Uh, L-Lou Parcini is uh, mostly uptown. In the entertainment district." Wesker held his gaze a moment longer, and then slid the paper in front of him.

"Lucky guess, Redfield. And also lucky that you'll be with me." Folding his arms, Wesker addressed the team while Chris snatched the paper and started scanning it. "All of you will be doing information sweeps and watches. Nothing too organized, and no waiting in the same area for longer than an hour at a time. You'll go in civilian clothes, but keep your weapons and identification with you. This isn't the junior league, so we aren't starting with low level gang members. These are the priority targets, with a short term goal of filling out detailed profiles for each, and a long term goal of incarceration once we find out the extent of their hold within Raccoon City."

He dismissed them, and told Chris to change into casual attire and meet him up in front of the station. Chris hurried back to his room, threw on comfortable clothes, kept his weapon holster on, but hid it beneath a dark green jacket.

Outside the station Wesker waited by the gated entrance, dressed in all black exactly as he had been the day Chris had seen him on the subway. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Wesker nodded to him slightly and the two started walking down the block.

"We'll be starting in the upper entertainment district, and work our way from there. As far as we know, Parcini owns a number of small businesses in that area, as well as being heavily involved with the prostitution ring." Wesker glanced at the street before crossing it, Chris trailing along beside him as the pair made their way deeper into the entertainment district. "As I said, we're just gathering information; filling out his profile with the RCPD in order to plan exactly where, when, and how we apprehend him." Chris nodded, taking a mental note to start carrying some sort of notepad around with him. After about twenty minutes of walking Wesker turned and entered a parking garage, Chris following him up the ramp.

"I arranged for several 'safe' vehicles to be placed around the city, all of which belong to the RCPD but that S.T.A.R.S. will be using to conduct their undercover work." Pulling a set of keys out of his pocket, he walked over to a plain grey car, not fancy but not inexpensive either, and unlocked it, clicking the mechanic locks to allow Chris in the other side. Once inside, Wesker gestured to the glove compartment and told Chris to get themselves organized. Inside he found a small transmitter radio, a pair of binoculars, three sets of handcuffs and a pistol with a clip beside it.

"That's for emergencies." Wesker said, nodding at the gun. Starting up the car, he backed out and swung them back out onto the road, turning and driving south. "We'll start as close to the north end of the entertainment district as possible. It'll take about half an hour in the car to get across, and it's at the end of the line should you ever take the subway. If you still do." Chris snapped his head up to look at his captain. It was the first time since he'd started that Wesker had even hinted at seeing Chris that day.

"I do take it, yeah." Although his eyes were hidden by shades, Chris could have sworn he saw Wesker's mouth twitch. "What exactly are we doing anyways, Captain?"

Accelerating through a yellow light, Wesker drove with one hand on the wheel, one hand resting on his window ledge. "We're simply going to try and figure out where Parcini goes during the day and which major establishments he has a hand in. We'll start small, and work our way up. The more thorough our knowledge the better." Frowning, Chris reached to the floor where he dropped the file and began flipping through it.

"Too bad we don't know anyone who works for Umbrella," he mused, eyes skimming the names of all the businesses previous investigations suggested the mob boss owned, "they seem to own half these places. Seems weird for a pharmaceutical company to own so much." Chris didn't see the withering look Wesker gave him.

"Money doesn't grow on trees, Redfield." Turning and glancing out of his window at the large Umbrella lab they were passing, the red and white of their logo reflected on Wesker's shades. He let his eyes linger on the building as they waited at a stop light. "And besides, they'll do anything to makes themselves look good." The latter, he said more to himself.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once the pair had found a large, industrial looking grey building with a single sign on it, Wesker had parked the car at the back of the lot and reclined his seat. Three hours later, Chris had read the file six times,filling a notebook up with four pages. Presently he sat reclined in his seat, watching the patrons of the strip club go in and out. _Of course it turns out to be a strip club._ Chris turned to watch his captain who was staring intently at a group of four men smoking and leaning against a black van at the other end of the parking lot. It took Chris a moment, but then he recognized... 

"Hey, that's Parcini! How long has he been over there?" Wesker gave Chris a heated look before turning back to watch the men.

"Being marksman is not an excuse to daydream on the job, Redfield. There's more to this job than aiming and shooting, as hard as you might find that to believe." Chris scowled at the back of his captain's head, then felt guilty because he _had_ been daydreaming instead of watching the club. Parcini was a tall, broad man who looked intimidating even to Chris. Wesker wasn't taking notes about him but was holding him in his sights so intently that Chris didn't think Wesker was content just sitting here.

"What should we do, sir?" Chris inquired tentatively. Wesker drummed his fingers against the steering wheel before suddenly moving to open the door. Chris followed suit, and the pair got out of the car and started walking across the parking lot, farther away from the man near the black van.

"Stay near me and let me do all the talking, understood?" Wesker ordered Chris over his shoulder, who kept pace with his captain, losing sight of the men as they went around the other side of the strip-club near the roped off entryway.

"Yes, sir." Chris said, slipping a jittery hand into his jacket pocket where he could feel his weapon holster safely hidden away. As they rounded the corner, the entry way to the club became visible, with two large, muscular men standing on either side of the door. A few scrawny patrons were waiting or smoking, but Wesker disregarded them.

"Wait for me here." Wesker said, bringing Chris to a stop. Two of the dancers wearing light jackets stood smoking by the wall. Taking notice of Chris the blonde one gave him a smile and a wink. Blushing to himself, Chris jammed his hands into his pockets again and watched Wesker go and speak to one of the guards. The guard said something to Wesker, poked his head into the club's door and then said something else to Wesker who nodded in return, and came striding back over to Chris. "We've got ourselves on the waiting list." Startled, Chris held his tongue and followed Wesker back to the car, who drove them back into the busier end of Folsolm Street until they got to the Raccoon Bar and Grill. Once inside and seated with their drinks in front of them, Chris couldn't hold back any longer.

"So...we're going to the strip-club."

"Yes, Redfield. We are."

Chris watched as Wesker took a sip of his drink, whiskey, and took a sip of his own beer. "Like, to watch the strippers?" Wesker couldn't help but roll his eyes at Chris.

"Yes, Redfield. Because they own the club and are the head of a unit of organized crime. Precisely." Another sip of the whiskey. Chris eyed the drink, thinking that wasn't anything he'd seen any of his other captains indulging in just after three in the afternoon. Annoyed at Wesker, Chris scowled and looked around them inside the pub. Already he, Jill and Barry had been here a number of times during their time training and planned to come at least once every week for some beers and a round of pool.

"I just meant," Chris said, turning back to look at Wesker. "that couldn't it be...risky like, being inside of the place that the guy we're investigating owns?" Wesker leaned back in his chair, eyeing Chris over the table, an eyebrow raised. "...sir?"

"Are you questioning your captain on your first real assignment, Redfield? I thought this job was a new leaf for you." This made Chris blush, and take a sip of his beer again, just for something to do other than look at Wesker. Swallowing and gritting his teeth, Chris tried to keep from giving Wesker a sarcastic answer. "No, I just..."

"Pastrami on rye?" The pretty red-haired waitress had appeared, two plates of food balancing in her hands. Chris nodded and tapped the table in front of him. She placed the plate down, turned and gave Wesker his steak, and then turned and left them alone.

"Please, go on Redfield, I believe you were about to justify yourself?" Wesker smirked at him in that annoying way he had when he was giving Chris hell. The smirk Chris was beginning to convince himself Wesker saved for when he was daring Chris to snap back at him. Instead Chris inhaled calmly, pouring some ketchup onto his plate for his fries.

"I just think it seems a bit risky. I just, I just thought it was an information sweep not actual, y'know, undercover work. Captain." Wesker, who had already begun cutting into his food, looked up at Chris, not saying anything for a moment. Bracing himself for another sarcastic answer, Chris took a big bite of his own meal.

"Parcini is supposed to be in charge of a prostitution ring, but currently the Raccoon City Police Department has no proof to support that claim." Wesker paused to take a bite of his food, and Chris took a bite of his sandwich, swallowing and nodding at what Wesker said.

"Alright, but using the strip club?"

"I believe he uses it as a front for the prostitution ring. Makes them dance as strippers during the day and rotates them out in the evening, or as clients make their offers. As a way of hiding the income from the prostitution ring." Chris blinked and took a deep sip of his beer. "I also think that he has his fingers in more than one strip club, but before I put that idea forward I need to prove my first one. Which is where you come in." Eyeing Chris across the table, Wesker finished off his drink and signaled to the waitress for another one.

"Me?" Chris was startled. Never in all his time serving under any captain had he ever been told he'd be involved in a plan that required he go to strip club. _Or a captain who drank two whiskeys before five._ "What...exactly am I going to do, sir?"

"You're going to get the attention of one of the dancers, and when she comes over you'll go somewhere private with her," Wesker reached into his jacket pocket, and tossed a wad of hundreds across the table at Chris, "and ask what that can get you. If she acts offended, which she won't, you'll apologize and leave. If she gives any indication at all that it could get you anything more than what a dancer should be giving her, make up a lie and leave anyways." Chris's eyes were still on the wad of bills sitting beside his plate, and he wondered where exactly Wesker got so much money from. Slipping it off of the table, he turned it over idly in his hand before pocketing it, looking back across the table at Wesker who was finishing the food on his plate, second whiskey down to the smallest sliver left in the glass.

"What will you be doing, Captain?" Chris wiped his mouth and tossed the dirty napkin onto his plate. Wesker downed the rest of his drink and put it down with a clink and leaned back in his chair with a smirk.

"I'll just wait for you. You shouldn't be long, as you know Redfield, using your captain's money to sleep with a prostitute definitely falls under the category of things which will get you fired." Chris struggled not to roll his eyes. Although unconventional, Chris could see how Wesker's plan was a good one. Get in, confirm a theory, get out. After he knew at least one of the strip clubs was being used to hide a prostitution ring Wesker would be able to order investigations through S.T.A.R.S. into any other clubs the gang leader might own. Nodding at Wesker, he watched his captain throw a few twenties onto the table and nod towards the door. "Shall we, Chris?"

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wesker and Chris got to the club again just as the sun was disappearing behind the condominiums being built near the Umbrella laboratories. Striding past the men in line, the security guard nodded at Wesker and stood aside letting Chris and his captain go through. Inside the club music was blaring, and it was dark, lit only by colourful strobe lights which shone at the stage, and by dim candles set at each of the small tables and all along the bar. In the middle of the club was a long stage that looked like a runway, but instead of models strutting down the middle, girls wearing nothing but the smallest of thongs swerved and swung their way around poles, leaning over to peek behind them at men, and slowly crawling their way along the edges collecting their tips. Despite feeling nervous at what he had to do, and slightly embarrassed at the fact that he was here with Wesker, Chris shoved his hands into his pockets and followed Wesker to a spot along bar. Once they had established themselves, Wesker ordered them two drinks, and Chris caught sight of the girl who'd waved to him earlier.

"The one to our left, the blonde. You remember what to do?" Leaning in close so that Chris could hear him over the blaring music, Wesker tilted towards Chris in his seat and turned his head to look behind them. This was easily the closest Chris had ever been to Wesker outside of the training exercises where his captain had fought him. That expensive familiar smell that Chris now associated only with Wesker made his heart thud, and he turned his eyes to watch the dancers just so that he could focus on something other than how close his captain was.

"Yeah, I remember." Watching the blonde dancer twirl around the poll nearest them, Chris slid a hand into his pocket and pulled a couple of bills out into his lap. Two glasses were placed on the table in front of them and the bartender took the bills Wesker had put down. "I guess you'll just wait for me out here, then?"

"I'll keep an eye on our friend to make sure he doesn't do anything out of the ordinary." When Wesker pulled away from him, Chris turned to look behind him where he had just been looking and saw Parcini at a large, hidden table with a bunch of other men. Wesker took a deep sip from the drink in front of him, and made eye contact with the blonde. A sharp kick to the leg under the bar table brought Chris' attention back to the stage where the blonde girl had made her way in front of them. Nervous, he snatched up the drink from in front of him and downed most of it in one go, wincing at how strong the liquor was. Wesker grabbed the bills out of Chris' lap and leaned forward placing them on the stage. The blonde gave a wide, bright smile and eyed the two of them.

"My friend wants to go somewhere more private. He's just being shy." Chris threw Wesker a look, but turned back to look at the girl. Slipping the bills into the thin string of her panties, the look she gave Wesker made Chris think that she'd much rather be going into the back with him, but turned to give Chris a sly nod before sliding down off the stage and nodding her head towards the end of the bar.

"Sure, honey. Why don't you just come with me." Heart thudding in his chest, Chris was struggling to think of the best way possible to suggest she do something more than dance. Downing the rest of his drink, he left Wesker to meet the girl at the end of the bar who stood clad in nothing but a tight bra and a small thong. Sure he'd visited strip clubs lots of times in lots of different places, and sure he'd even gotten a decent number of lap-dances since coming of age, but never in his life had he been with a prostitute. _I wouldn't even know how to ask a regular prostitute off the street for sex, let alone trying to feel out whether or not a stripper is one, oh god, why couldn't Wesker have done this..._

"I'm Jade. What's your name, sweetie?" Slipping an arm through his she led Chris through a curtained doorway into a back hallway where some doors stood open, but most were closed.

"Barry." Saying the first name that came to mind, not wanting to give his own in case she should relate this incident back to Parcini and he in turn figured out who Chris and Wesker were. Reaching a room at the end of the hall, Jade stood aside and motioned for him to enter, following him in and closing the door behind them. Taking a seat on the plush couch, his heart was racing still as he struggled to figure out how to go about this.

"Oh honey, don't be nervous. Is this your first time? I'll give you a nice little show." Leaning in close to him she nibbled on his earlobe and began moving her hips in a slow, erotic way which made Chris grow hard. Letting his head drop back against the cushion, he let himself take in the view, figuring he may as well enjoy this while he can. As she moved and dipped in close to him so he could get a good view of her slim form, her perfume filled the space between them and he moaned softly as she reached behind her and slowly took off her bra. Once she turned to show him her rear, swaying her hips and bending over, he slipped his hand inside his coat pocket and brought the money out, hidden in the shadow of his torso. Turning and tracing a long, fake nail down his cheek she giggled at him. "You look so sweet, I could just eat you up."

"Would this cover that type of thing?" Heart racing, he slid the wad of money into his lap and watched her carefully, convinced that she'd leap away from him and call for security. Her eyes darted from the money to Chris to the money again, her movements stopped and she drummed her fingers on the chair handle.

"What makes you think that could get you anything more than a really long dance?" Not freaking out, not immediately calling security, so that was good. Now he just had to...

"My friend, the one I came here with? He uh, his brother told him that if you pay a little extra here you can get a little more." Eyeing him again, he could almost see the alarm bells in her head. _She knows I'm a cop, she thinks she's in trouble, you're too obvious, get ready to go, get ready Chris, get..._

Touching the bills with the tip of her nail, her eyes flicked up to meet his own. "And how do I know you're not a cop?" His heart was thudding, but she still wasn't freaking out...all the same he was relieved only Wesker had kept his weapon and badge on him, ordering Chris he leave his in the car before they returned here.

"I mean...I guess I can't prove that to you," he said trying as best he could to sound nonchalant, almost disappointed, "but you can always search me."

"Well..." Chris felt her hand move from the money to the bulge between his legs, giving him a squeeze that made him gasp. "...that is a good enough amount to get yourself a really..." a firm stroke over his slacks that made him moan again," ...really thorough search, if that's what you wanted." She leaned against him, running her tongue from his collarbone to his ear. Letting his eyes close and his head fall back, his mind was swimming. He really hadn't been with anyone in the time he'd been there which for Chris was pretty damn long time for him to go with nothing but his hand for company.

 _She's a prostitute...she's a_ prostitute _, you cannot solicit a prostitute with your captain's money while you're on the job no matter how good it..._ He moaned again as she continued stroking him over his pants, grabbing his hand and moving it to her breast, kissing his neck and nipping the skin there making his erection throb almost painfully. It wasn't until he felt her undoing the button of his pants and beginning to slide the zipper down that he snapped back to what he was supposed to be doing.

"I...I can't..." struggling to regain control of himself and calm the racing of his heart, he shifted to sit upright, making her slide slightly back and off of him, breaking the contact with his neck. "I just, I can't do this." Frowning at him, she went to lean close to him and resume her work.

"Don't be nervous, I'll make it real good for you, just relax..."

"No I can't, I...I've got a fiance and I just can't do this to her." This made her break away from him and lean back on his knees. He thought she'd be mad, but a small smile spread across her features. Beneath the heavy makeup, he saw she was probably really pretty.

"You sure, honey? I can be very discreet...she doesn't need to know." Despite her words, she slid obligingly off of his lap, allowing him to stand and zip up his slacks, blushing at the sight of how prominent his erection was even covered up. _God dammit, maybe I can hide it from Wesker, it's dark in here and by now it's dark outside..._ Grabbing the money off the couch he shoved it into his pocket, but felt guilty about it, blushing and turning to look at her.

"Yeah, I just, I should...should go." She still smiled at him as she picked up her bra and put it back on, pushing herself up off the couch and going to open the door for Chris. As she turned the handle, she turned to look at him and reached up to pinch his cheek slightly.

"You're a sweet guy, Barry. Most men wait until they're balls deep inside me to tell me they're married. You go on home to her." As he left she called out and he turned around. "But if your friend is interested, you can tell him where to find me." With a wink, she disappeared back into the room. Chris made a face to himself as he tried to imagine Wesker enticed enough by her to go into the back with her. _Nah he'd never._ But maybe he would...despite Wesker's serious, professional demeanor in his role as captain, the past several weeks with him had begun to show the tiniest of glimpses into his personality, particularly this evening. Reaching the main dance area, he saw Wesker who was watching Parcini through the reflection of the mirror above the stage. After a moment, he spotted Chris, nodded, and rose from his seat, turning and walking to the door to leave. Once back in the car, Chris angled himself so that his crotch faced away from Wesker. Although his erection was half gone, the embarrassment at Wesker potentially noticing it lingered.

"You look as though you enjoyed yourself a bit, perhaps you left only partially unsatisfied?" Chris jumped, but when he looked at Wesker he saw the smirk there. Flustered, Chris's mind began racing at the idea that Wesker had seen his arousal. _But why was he looking there anyways?_ A childish thought really, but still... "You have lipstick all over your neck and I wasn't aware that you stared wearing cheap perfume." This time Chris could hear that annoying smugness, the tone Wesker seemed to save especially for Chris. _You just think he saves lots for you, don't ya?_ At least Chris could feel relieved that Wesker hadn't noticed his erection, which was now thankfully almost entirely gone.

"Well, it's not like I could sit down, whip the money out and tell her to sleep with me." Wesker shot Chris a glance, and he cleared his throat. "I mean, I just had to make it seem as authentic as I could, sir. You were right, though. She would've willingly accepted the money. I can save it for the debriefing if you want." Pulling down the overhead mirror, he made a face at the smeared lipstick on his neck like a bruise. "I'll just take a shower when we get back." Feeling a bit daring, he gave Wesker a side glance and grinned to himself. "Besides, I don't think this is a good smell for me anyways."

Shaking his head slightly, but no trace of a smirk on his lips, Wesker pulled the car into a parking garage's main floor down the block from the RCPD, grabbing what he needed and getting out. Chris followed suit, Wesker locking the car, and the pair of them walking the rest of the way down the block in silence. Once back down in the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha area, Wesker disappeared into his office and Chris made his way down to his room to grab his cotton pajama bottoms and his towel. Walking back out into the hallway, he noticed that the lights were off in everyone else's bedrooms which meant that unless they were all tucked into bed by ten thirty, they were all still out. Deciding to relax for a while first, Chris made his way to the pool area after dropping his stuff off in the change-rooms, and slid into the hot-tub after turning the bubbles on for twenty minutes. The whole time he lay in the tub hoping that Wesker would decide to go for a swim, but also hoping not as well, because he feared the confusing feelings would return. Instead he let himself think about Jade; how she smelled, the way her hips moved, the way her breast had felt in his hand...before long the erection had returned and there was no way Chris could go to sleep without doing _something_ about it.

The click of the bubbles turning off made Chris leap out of the tub and wrap the towel around himself, his arousal creating a noticeable bulge in the cloth. Hoping Wesker nor anyone else were back yet, he walked as quickly as he could down to the change-room and went into the shower, turning on the hot water. Stepping into the curtain, peeling off his swim shorts, and tossing them beside his towel on the floor, he snatched up the shampoo and lathered it into his hair, making sure he scrubbed his neck with it to get off all traces of his encounter with Jade. _God...didn't it feel so good to be touched even if it was just barely, and over the clothes too..._ Chris hadn't realized how much he had been craving someone's touch, the erection throbbing between his legs lending testament to that. Moving his hand down to stroke himself, he thought about the way her tongue had felt arching up his neck, how much he'd just wanted to let her do whatever she wanted to him. A soft moan came from his lips...and then he heard the sound of another shower being turned on.

Heart slamming at the idea that someone else may have just heard him, his hand stopped it's motion, his erection wilting slightly. Listening over the sounds of the running water and being greeted with footsteps in the washroom. _What if it's Wesker..._ he thought with a thrill of both excitement and mortification. The need to know overcame any other notion, and Chris moved close to the curtain of the wide stall. The footsteps had stopped, but he hadn't heard the other shower curtain move since the water had started, and he didn't think whoever it was had gotten in their own stall yet. Heart pounding in his chest, Chris slowly parted the curtain just enough that he was able to look past it and out into the washroom. Near one of the sinks, Wesker stood and Chris's heard went crazy. _Oh fuck it IS him, shit..._ Everything in him was screaming for him to retreat back into his shower and abandon this reckless voyeurism, but he just couldn't look away. Wesker was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it back off of his shoulders and hanging it over one of the hangers. Chris felt his cock twitch in his hand at the sight of the muscles in his captain's shoulders, and a deep heat rose to his cheeks. Just as he was feeling overwhelmed, Wesker's head moved as if to turn and Chris threw himself back into the shower so hard he almost slipped. Panting, heart racing, and renewed erection in hand he prayed to himself Wesker hadn't see him, and waited a moment before daring to peek out again.

Wesker still stood there, now with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and he was just finishing folding his pants and placing them on the counter. Walking over to his own stall several down from Chris', the brunette watched utterly entranced as his captain walked by, the way in which his hair was swept back, the sharpness of his jawline, the smoothness of his biceps. Disappearing into the showers, Chris leaned back against the wall and let himself listen to the sounds of the hot water as it moved over his captain. Giving himself a tentative stroke, Chris shut his eyes, his mind battling with the urges he felt. It wasn't that Chris was debating whether or not to actually _do_ what his hand was already doing, but whether or not to do it here or to retreat back to his room. Moving his hand a bit faster, Chris bit his lip to repress a moan again, horrified at the idea that Wesker would know what he was doing. Turning and placing one hand against the wall of the shower, Chris let the hot water run over his head as he gave in and let himself jerk off. Mixed images of the stripclub, the feeling of Jade's hand rubbing over his pants, and the sight of Wesker's muscled form and knowing it was just stalls down from him...

His hand formed a fist against the wall, and he gnawed the inside of his lip as he came, hard, the milky fluid that emerged immediately washing away and disappearing down the drain. Shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm, Chris felt that cloudy feeling in his brain that he'd felt the first time he'd jerked off with thoughts of his captain in his head. Catching his breath, he moved a shaky hand to his head, making sure all the soap and shampoo was gone before he turned the water off. Reaching out he scooped up his towel and ran it as quickly as he could over his head and torso, before wrapping it around his waist as he had seen Wesker do. Another deep blush returned thinking of his captain, and he reached down picking up his wet swim trunks. _Oh god, just hurry up and leave before he gets out, just hurry up and..._

Just as he reached the door, he heard the sound of the other shower being turned off, and as he disappeared around the corner he heard the curtain rustle open.

"Goodnight, Redfield." Chris thought his embarrassment would never end.


	8. Cowboys and Pirates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally getting interesting (at least to me). I sincerely hope I didn't make Wesker (too?) out of character... I had a different idea when I started writin this chapter of how I wanted it to play out, but it went where it went. Enjoy!

Rain was coming down steadily in Raccoon City, as it had been for what seemed like an eternity to Chris, but amounted to no more than three days. Under normal circumstances, as in circumstances where Chris wasn't having confusing and sleep-depriving thoughts of his captain, Chris loved the rain. All the rain was doing for Chris was reminding him how damn good his captain had looked pulling himself out of the pool each time he'd seen him. Ever since the encounter in the shower, Chris had been avoiding the swimming pool like it was diseased. Chris had been terrified to continue working alongside Wesker the rest of that week, but as the hours had turned to days, Wesker hadn't said a word about bidding him goodnight. He hadn't even hinted at it, which made Chris believe that Wesker didn't actually know anything about what Chris had going on in his mind, including masturbating to the thought of him three shower stalls down.

_You are the biggest idiot in the world._ He thought miserably, lighting up a cigarette under the shelter of the RCPD garages. Behind him sat three armored trucks that hadn't been used since a raid five years prior to the creation of S.T.A.R.S. Chris took a long, deep drag from his cigarette, and let the smoke lazily drift up in front of his face as he exhaled.

Smoking had once again become a source of comfort in Chris’s life to deal with all of the complicated thoughts he'd been having. Despite the negative impacts on his physical well-being, Chris figured the mental benefits, at least for the time being, more than outweighed the threat to his lungs.

_If I’m gonna die from ‘em, it won’t be until I’m 80 anyways._

Another deep drag from the cigarette, and Chris kicked off from the wall he had been leaning on, and ventured out from under the RCPD overhang. It was Thursday night, and Chris was anxious for this week to be over. All he had left to do was give his debriefing of his and Wesker's findings to the rest of Alpha tomorrow, and go over the plan for next week before they got to go home for the weekend. The last two days had been spent tracking various strip-clubs Parcini or any of his associates had been seen at, but not risking any more personal intervention within the clubs themselves. Overall, he supposed, it hadn't been all that bad of a week. Aside from his constant presence around Wesker, he was enjoying his new job.

_Except for the asshole Captain._

Well, to be fair, Wesker hadn't been an asshole, at least not if Chris allowed himself to think about it. The past week, uncomfortable feelings aside, had consisted of sitting in a car with Wesker, and wandering around various part of the entertainment district of Raccoon City. Barry had made endless sexual innuendos which pulled at Chris’s nerves about scoping out strip clubs with his captain, but the more he squirmed, the worse Barry taunted him. Paranoia had settled in, even after Barry had moved onto picking at Brad and Joseph instead.

Rain was soaking steadily through the light jacket he wore, and his stomach growled restlessly. Thoughts about what to have for lunch while he took his first full day off ran through his mind, that at first he didn't notice the car which pulled up beside him or hear the officer calling out to him. Pausing, Chris went over to the car and leaned down to look through the open window.

“Redfield, hey man, good thing I caught ya. Your captain was just asking where you'd went, apparently you're needed back at the station, Valentine was supposed to tell ya, she said if anyone saw you at lunch to let you know.” An officer leaned across the passenger seat, squinting up at Chris. A flutter of anxiety rippled through Chris's stomach, and he took a deep breath.

_Here we go._ Chris thought with a sigh, bending over and returning the look with a polite smile on his face. “What’s the problem, officer?” _You think you’re so fuckin clever._

“Your captain wants you.”

Chris actually felt a jolt in his stomach, his heart skip a beat and breath hitch in his throat all at the same time. “Wants...”

“Yeah, there’s somethin' about some case you guys are working on.” The cop interrupted. “Look man, I don’t know I’m just supposed to let you know. If ya want, I can give you a ride back down the street to avoid the rain.”

_Great._ Whatever it was, if Chris waited until after he'd scoped out his lunch it would drive him insane. Better to get whatever Wesker wanted from him over and done with now while it was still early in the day for him. Still recovering from his incorrect interpretation of the words, Chris swung open the passenger door and slid into the car, thankful to be out of the rain, even if it's just for the block back to the RCPD.

“Sorry about your seats, I kinda haven't gotten an umbrella yet.” Chris said with an apologetic smile, but the officer just shrugged, pulling a U-turn and heading back up the street.

“There’s been an attack in the west end, and we've received some information from an inside source that it’s in regards to the gang S.T.A.R.S. has been tracking.” The radio cracked, and a dim flicker of discomfort passed over Chris's features. _There goes my day off._ It was a selfish thought, but Chris had seriously needed to just get nice and toasted off of beer and pool all afternoon.

“The Parcini family?” That's what all of his associates had been known as within the circle of gangs operating in downtown Raccoon City. His week spent shadowing the man's life and given Chris a relatively decent layout of his activities, and had provided Wesker with a decent sized evidence pool with which to plan out future investigations.

“Parcini and the crew, yep.” The officer ‘hmph’d’’ and shook his head. “What a week, huh? Nothing goes on for almost three months and then bam, four murders all in one go. Irons gave the message to Wesker earlier, and he told Valentine to try and get you. S.T.A.R.S. Bravo is already out there doing the stage one follow up and investigation, but since Alpha's been working on that gang more thoroughly, Wesker wants to take you and Valentine there as well. The three of you and some backup officers are going to see if the gang members are still around the crime area, and to talk with Bravo about what happened.”

Chris sighed again, and watched as the RCPD building grew larger as they approached it. Stomach growling, Chris wondered why Bravo couldn't just handle the whole thing themselves. _It's not even urgent if Wesker didn't actually need me back right away, why bother?_ The officer brought them to a stop just outside of the large gated entrance to the department's headquarters.

Chris got out of the car, waved his thanks to the officer, and then ran into the station, heading right down to the Alpha common area. Once there he found Jill sitting at the table eating a bagel and potato chips. Her eyes lit up and she gave him a smile.

"Long time no see, it seems. It's been, what, all week?" Munching some of the chips she titled her head behind her in the direction of the hallway. "Captain Wesker wants to see you in his office, and around 1:30 we're gonna head over to where Bravo is. Did Office Mendez tell you what happened?"

"Just that there was some sort of attack resulting in four dead." Chris said with a nod as he strode through the room. "Hey, save me some chips will ya? I was just going for lunch." He heard her laugh slightly, along with the crinkle of the bag being closed. She called after him that they'd be ready and waiting for them when he came back. Approaching Wesker's slightly open door, he tapped at it with his knuckle and Wesker told him to come in.

Inside Wesker's office was neat and organized, everything in it's place. A large computer sat on his desk, and there was a small, neat stack of papers in a black plastic basket on the other side. The desk itself was free of all clutter, not even a pen lay on top of it. His gun and badge sat resting on the chair against the wall, and there was a large white board with the names of various gangs and associated areas written on it in his immaculate, slightly slanted handwriting. Chris recalled the last time he'd sat in this office alone with Wesker at the start of his position. _And you hip-checked the desk out of nervous excitement._ A dull embarrassed flush came at the memory, and he took a seat across from Wesker.

"There's been a change in plans, Redfield. You, Miss Valentine, and myself are going to be coordinating with Bravo on Mission Street, near city hall. Around five in the morning there was an attempted break-in report, and shortly after gunshots were heard. Bravo went to investigate, and around noon, discovered four bodies in a dumpster a block away from the robbery site." Wesker was typing something up on the computer as he spoke, but reached over to shove a paper at Chris which was covered in his handwriting. "That's everything Enrico let me know over the phone earlier. Make sure you're in full gear and meet me in the rear parking garage with Ms. Valentine in ten minutes." Chris nodded, and took the paper, leaving Wesker to finish what he was doing. Skimming it over, he saw more or less what Enrico had said about it was a suspected gang hit, where the robbery was an attempt to delay the murders.

When Chris returned to the main common area, Jill rose to her feet, beret tilted on her short brown hair, vest on and equipped for their day. Chris had kept his uniform on since despite the day off, Alpha was still on-call, and to be ready to depart the station to assist should they be needed. Snatching the bag of chips as promised, she and Chris walked through the RCPD and out to the back courtyard where the garage sat. Leaning against one of the pillars, Jill tossed the chips to Chris and smiled.

"Why is it I'm always giving you snacks?" Chris laughed and started munching as they waited for their captain. Jill nudged him playfully, grinning up at him. "I hear you went to a strip-club earlier this week." 

"Yeah, to investigate a mob boss." Chris said with a scowl. "I don't know what Barry's been telling everyone, it's not like we went there to get a lap dance." _Even though you technically did._ "Besides, I confirmed Wesker's theory. S.T.A.R.S. made a big break in tracking Parcini, y'know." At this, Jill rolled her eyes and gave him a light-hearted smile.

"Relax, Chris. I'm just teasing." Her smile disappeared as she saw Wesker coming over to where they waited. "Besides, we need to make the progress all we can, what with going to investigate a quadruple murder and all."

"We cannot confirm that until we've been to the scene to confirm with Bravo." Wesker opened the car doors, Chris sliding in the front seat and Jill sliding in the back. Revving the engine, Wesker swung them out onto the main road and turned, heading towards the west end. "We'll be convening with Bravo on this since it's our case. Since Bravo's done the Stage One and Two investigation, they'll be handling the rest of the case, relaying all information relevant to our targets in order for us to use this information in our pursuit of them." Chris nodded, and Jill asked what sort of information they should be keeping particular track of. As Wesker answered Jill, Chris couldn't help but admire the authoritative way in which Wesker delegated their assignment to them. _He is a freakin' good Captain. Even though he's kind of an ass._ A short while later, Wesker pulled the car up to the curb, alongside half a dozen RCPD cars, and a large grey truck that Chris recognized as the one Bravo Captain Enrico drove. Across the street and behind a series of yellow caution tape stood Bravo, short a few people. Forest saw Chris and gave him a bleak nod, which Chris returned. _Yeah, I feel you bud. No time to shoot and our first time hanging out in a bunch of weeks is at a murder scene._

"Captain Wesker, excellent, we could really use your input." Enrico said with a grim nod, which Wesker returned while taking the papers from Enrico's hand. "Detailed case notes, everything we have so far. Chambers is discussing the victims' wounds with the medical examiners from the city, a few others are with the forensics team combing over the inside." As their captain spoke, Jill began chatting with one of the regular detectives, gathering together all the details she could. Chris thumbed the weapon safely inside his holster, brows knitting together as he saw the four body bags on the ground, and dark brown stains streaked along a dumpster which could only have been blood. Forest idled his way over to Chris and began asking him how their investigations had been going. The pair began chatting casually about what each team had uncovered without using names or places, while Wesker and Enrico discussed the investigation plan for this scene. Since Alpha had done the bulk of the research for Parcini, they would be consulted about how their activities tied into the current investigation.

"Jill, go with Enrico, he says they think the robbery may have been set up. You're to analyze the door locks along with the windows to see if there was any suspicious marks that may indicated the store was broken into prior to last evening." Jill nodded at Wesker, and headed off with Marini in the direction of the yellow caution tape. Turning to Chris and Forest, they dropped their conversation and stood at attention for Wesker's order. "Speyer, you and Redfield are to--"

The loud crack of a gunshot rang out suddenly, making everyone instinctively flinch. Chris dove to the ground, swinging his weight around one of the police cars, eyes darting around to see if anyone had been shot. A series of shouting broke out, along with more gunshots but no indication that anyone had been hit. Spotting Wesker who was crouched behind a car opposite his own, Chris pulled his weapon from his hip and waited for instructions. Basic training told him that if his captain was nearby, to obey and wait for him. _Had this been a year ago, I'd be free-shooting the fucker._ Wesker's eyes caught Chris and he held them, nodding slightly to the north-east of where they crouched. Chris nodded, confirming that he knew that was where the shots came from. Wesker leaned into the door of the car and held his head up at an angle, below the view through the car windows but enough to see the reflection across from them in the side-view mirror of the car. Crouching again and looking back to Chris, he held up a finger at Chris, and then held his hand palm-down. _One guy, hiding._ Heart pounding in his chest, Chris kept his gaze level with Wesker's. Enrico's voice rang out, ordering the shooter to come out. A panicked curse was screamed from somewhere beyond where Chris hid, and three more shots ran out followed by a series of shots from the police. Wesker made a pushing motion at Chris, looping his hand around in a semi-circle. Chris nodded and turned around. _Shooter moved to our left. Move around the car until I'm by the tail-lights._ Shuffling quietly, Chris did as he was ordered, cautiously positioning himself and gaining a better view of the scene.

Immediately Chris recognized the dark haired, brawny man crouched near the dumpster as one of the men who Parcini had been with that first night at the club. He was facing the cluster of police officers, now leaning over their car doors with weapons drawn. Heart slamming, Chris realized he had a clear shot of him from here, but didn't want to do anything so drastic without Wesker's approval. The debate waged on and he felt someone nudge him, almost making his heart leap out of his chest. He whipped around silently, and found Wesker leaning against the opposite side of the car where Chris had just moved from.

"Where?"

"One guy I can see, the one by the dumpster." Chris whispered his response. "All I can see is his handgun, nothing else. There's too many hidden spots, I can't tell if he has other men with him." Wesker appeared to think over this a moment, the delegations of the police officers for the man to stand down echoing around the walls surrounding them. Prodding Chris in the side, Wesker nodded towards the dumpster a few feet away from where the gunman stood.

"Get up there, and I can angle around the wall to the inside. I'll handle any men in there, and you can ambush and disarm." Chris nodded and followed a hidden path behind additional bins and parked cars to get to a spot in a narrow alleyway about ten feet away from the gunman. From here he could no longer see the man with the weapon, but could instead see all of the officers, and S.T.A.R.S. agents spread about the street. He could also see slightly into the area beside the dumpster that hid the man, but only if he stuck his head out slightly. A beat went by, before he heard a loud slam. Raising up, Chris was just in time to see the guy with the gun swing at Wesker, who tackled him hard into the brick wall behind them both. The gun the man had been holding clattered to the ground, and Wesker swung at him again. Ducking, the man barely yanked himself away from Wesker, disappearing in a blur back into the warehouse. Leaping out from where he hid, Chris ran to where Wesker was, who barked him an order to pursue, turned and yelled for the Enrico to get some cops around to the street on the other side. Wesker and Chris disappeared together into the warehouse, where they saw the man rocket up the metal stair case. Raising his weapon, Wesker took two shots at him, both hitting the metal and causing the man to shriek and duck as he went into the maintenance offices.

"Follow me; shoot him if you get the chance. In the leg or shoulder." Chris nodded at the instruction, his heart pounding with adrenaline and excitement at the action. Running up each of the two staircases, Wesker and Chris slowed to a quick walk down the catwalk, guns drawn at the door the man had disappeared into. Despite the authority of his order and relative calm in his voice, Wesker was angry at the man attacking him, that much Chris could tell for sure. Chris looked to see if there was an alternate route out of the offices, but couldn't tell from where he stood. Looking back to Wesker, he held a hand up signalling Chris to wait. Walking silently, gun drawn, Wesker approached the door slowly. Below them several police officers, Enrico, and Forest all took position by crates and trucks. Keeping his breathing steady, Chris had his gun trained at the dark slit of the open door, ready to fire the second the man dared emerge. Despite his focus, Chris missed the fleeting chance to top the man as the door slammed open violently and the man threw himself out at Wesker. Chris aimed his gun but didn't pull the trigger, not wanting to hit his captain. A moment of worry, but only a moment, went by before Wesker grabbed the man and slammed him against the railing. Struggling to his feet, the guy barely moved before Wesker bent down and held his head against the metal walkway. Blood was streaming out of the guy's nose, and Chris lowered his weapon as Wesker yanked out his handcuffs. _Holy hell, that guy didn't stand a chance._ Chris thought as he watched Wesker roughly cuff him and yank him to his feet.

Once they were all back outside, the man was unceremoniously shoved into the back of a cop car, and Wesker and Enrico convened to go over everything that had happened. Forest came over to Chris wide-eyed and shaking his head.

"Wow, can you believe it? Where did that guy even come from?" Chris gave his friend a shrug, but only half listened after that. Instead, he watched Wesker who was breathing heavily, but seemed back to his regular cool demeanor as he spoke to the Bravo captain. A back up had been established around the perimeter, and Forest had been sent up to the roof to do surveillance. Wesker came over to Chris and indicated he go with him. Following, the pair got into the car they'd arrived in and left.

"You and I need to go back and write up the report, everything we need to do here has either been done or will be taken care of by Enrico." Chris flinched slightly at the sharpness of the order, but shrugged it off and attributed it to the drop the guy had gotten on Wesker. Chris agreed, and turned to stare out of the window, disappointed. Although he didn't require praise to know he'd done his job right, Chris was a little put off that Wesker didn't mention anything about what had happened. _First assignment and all, you think maybe I'd get a little feedback or...I don't know._ He thought to himself. Once they pulled into the RCPD lot, Wesker got out of the car and slammed the door shut without giving Chris any further instruction. Jogging after Wesker, they walked in silence down to the Alpha room, where Wesker strode off to his office, leaving Chris to head into the computer area to type up the report. Once he had written the brief, read it over twice, and printed it off, he shuffled his way down to Wesker's office, giving a light tap on the door.

"Put it on the desk, and then go file it and take a copy upstairs to Incidence Reports." Wesker ordered without looking at him. Chris nibbled the inside of his cheek, wanting desperately to know what was wrong. _Something_ was wrong, Chris had picked up on that much. He tentatively slid the report down onto the desk and went to leave, but paused and turned.

"Er, sorry to bother you, but...I was just wondering how you thought, er, I did." It sounded lame and stupid the second it came out of his mouth, and Chris wanted to leave. Wesker stopped typing and looked over at Chris, his expression unreadable. "Sir."

"You performed adequately." He said after a moment of silence. He turned back to the typing, and Chris awkwardly thanked him and left to take the typed report up to IR. All the way up and through the RCPD, the word 'adequately' echoed in his head. _The fuck does that mean...'adequately'. Not great. Not good...isn't it like, yeah, props, you did the bare minimum?_ Replaying everything in his mind again, Chris couldn't think of any way he could have done better. _Adequately..._ Once he'd spoken to the man sitting in IR, he headed back downstairs, still going over and over what he had done. Letting himself back into the Alpha area, he dropped down onto the couch, bouncing his knee rapidly. Unable to just sit quietly, he got to his feet and went back to Wesker's office, tapping the door again.

"What does adequately mean, exactly?" Chris leaned against the chair in front of Wesker's desk, and his captain turned to give Chris a level stare. Chris held it, refusing to let Wesker intimidate him away. Raising from his seat, Wesker swept the pile of papers into a messy stack and gathered them together.

"It means," he explained, tapping the bottoms of the papers against the desk to align them, "that you performed as required by your job description." The papers tapped the desk again as he fussed to make them neat.

"Yeah but, did I...did I do anything wrong or...I don't know." Chris felt annoyed at the incredible lack of explanation from Wesker regarding his work. Shoving the papers into their folder and tucking them under one arm, Wesker looked at Chris, and this time he _did_ look away, pushing a flap on his green vest into place instead.

"What, Redfield, would you like a report card? A pat on the head for a job well done?" That sarcastic tone, it drove Chris insane. He gritted his teeth together instead of snapping back like he so desperately wanted to. "I'm your captain, Redfield. Not your babysitter. Do what you're expected to." Wesker moved out from and moved to stride out of the room, brushing roughly past Chris as he did so. "And don't screw up." Chris glared at Wesker, feeling a dull heat rise to his cheeks, whipping around to follow Wesker down the hallway.

"Yeah, well I did that, and yet you're still lecturing me as if I _did_ screw it up." Wesker didn't respond or turn around, infuriating Chris even more. "And for the record, _sir_ , I'm not look for validation or a 'pat on the head', it'd just be nice to here something like 'hey, Redfield, that thing you did today? Yeah, that was a good job, you-" Wesker stopped and turned to face Chris so abruptly, he took a staggered step backwards to avoid colliding with his captain.

"Tell me what part of that isn't giving you a pat on the head." His voice was quiet and ice cold, daring Chris to challenge him further. Glaring at each other, neither budging, Chris felt the old familiar irritation at following orders creeping up again. "If you do something that displeases me, even _you_ won't have any problems with figuring out exactly what you did wrong." Turning and walking away for good this time, Wesker left Chris with his fists balled up and feeling insulted and annoyed. Chris strode angrily across the common room and down the hallway to the gym, fiddling with the utility belt and vest, undoing the holster containing his gun. Going right into the gym he dropped his stuff in a pile on the floor, not giving a damn if Wesker gave him shit for it. Stretching and cracking his knuckles, he began going through the training routines in hand-to-hand combat with the large punching bag. That prickly, needy, nicotine feeling was creeping into the back of his throat and as he connected his fist to the bag again and again, letting all his frustration at Wesker out on that clustered, stiff pillow, he thought longingly of the cigarette he planned on smoking afterwards. After a while, his fists ached and sweat streamed down his back, making him feel sticky and shaky. Without any idea if anyone were even back or not, or any care as to where anyone else was, he snatched his things off the ground and stormed his way down to his room, changed into his swim trunks, grabbed a towel and stomped all the way back down, practically throwing himself into the pool. Laps and laps and laps made the sweat wash off his skin and cooled him down, kicking off from the wall and propelling himself back and forth, thoughts of Wesker running through his head.

_I don't give a fuck if you're my captain, you don't have to be such a massive fucking prick about everything._ He thought bitterly. After another half hour or so, Chris was so exhausted from his unplanned workout that all he wanted to do was take a shower and try to enjoy the rest of his night off. Feeling weak from exhaustion, Chris turned on the hot water in the shower as full as it could go and stood leaning against the wall. Almost subconsciously, his hand travelled between his legs and was surprised to feel an erection slip into his hand. Despite the day he'd had and his exhaustion, stroking himself felt so blissfully relaxing that he just couldn't stop. Not thinking of anything at all, Chris jerked off, his mind wandering with no real image, but when he came, pressing his forehead against the wet tiles, it was Wesker in his head; Wesker and how close he'd been to him, how he sounded when he was barking out orders...

_And how much of an asshole he was to you. I really hate him sometimes._ Closing his eyes and sighing deeply to himself, he reached over and turned the water off but remained immobile against the wall. _I keep saying I hate my captain, yet I jerk off to the thought of him more and more. You're really fucked up, aren't ya, Chris?_

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The weeks immediately following the attack in the alley slid back into the same, repetitive search-gather-report routine that Alpha had been following since they began their actual training. Since S.T.A.R.S. wasn't going to be officially introduced to the citizens of Raccoon until January 1996, they had almost two full months left of relative anonymity amongst the gang community. Their activity in the alley and resulting arrest of the man who'd shot at everyone had seemingly little effect on the activities of Parcini. Remaining off the radar for a week afterwards, Chris and Wesker found him again as he resurfaced near a strip club in the far east end of the entertainment district. Since they'd had no way of knowing if any other gang members had seen them during the shoot out, Wesker ordered none of them directly interfere in any of the businesses of their targets, instead telling them to linger nearby, but never the same place more than twice in the same week. Chris had wanted to avoid Wesker for fear of being lectured more, but he needn't have worried since Wesker seemed too busy with everything he had to do to even be present a lot of the time. Even when he did go on a sweep with everyone, he gave the order, followed the investigation, and told Chris what to do as simply as he could before vanishing back into his office. The ease of the remainder of September and almost all of October had provided both teams with ample opportunity to relax and familiarize themselves with the city they called home. It also, however, meant a lot of research and paperwork, which they'd been doing for almost a week solid now.

The 10am hunger was setting in, and Chris' stomach made sure he knew it. Rumbling loudly, Chris put a hand to it and nervously looked around. Everyone in office today was too drawn in by their own work to notice much of anything. The lack of local crime, and relative inactivity of the Parcini gang was taking its toll, and Alpha was reduced to gang research and information sweeps through the archives. Across the wall from Chris by the opposite window sat Jill, poring over blueprintes of what looked to be half of the city. Large maps with large, markered arrows drawn on drew mazes around added on sticky-notes. Her scrunched up face made Chris think it was at least a bit more interesting than the backlogged crime reports he was reviewing as per Wesker's order. Everyone else was studying maps, murder reports, calling and speaking to previous witness, and yet Chris sat with stacks and stacks of tax forms, petty crime reports and old newspapers trying to see if there were any 'hidden details' he could uncover. When Wesker had told Chris was he was doing, he gave him a smirk and waited, daring Chris to object or refuse. After his lecture about not having his hand held, Chris refused to play Wesker's stupid games, instead nodded, said 'yes sir' and did everything he was told no matter how annoying or useless it seemed.

Regretting his stubborn refusal to object to Wesker's order, Chris let his arms slide down across the table until his cheek touched its cool surface. His eyes lingering on the calendar, he noticed with dull surprise that the following evening was Halloween. _And that's a Bravo night, so we can do whatever we want._ Sighing and stretching, he rose to his feet and looked around the room.

"I'm going to the Coffee Hut, anyone want anything?" Almost everyone turned to look at Chris.

"You buying? If yes, I want a large black coffee and a bacon sandwich." Barry said with a smirk. Chris rolled his eyes and made a face, but agreed to treat everyone.

"In that case, I want a coffee, er, large, and a chocolate chip bagel." Joseph said, and Brad perked up and said he'd like that too.

"You gonna be able to carry all that stuff, Chris?" Jill asked, a look of mild concern on her face. "I could come with you, if you want. I could really use the break." Chris nodded, and let everyone know they'd be back in fifteen. Grabbing their light jackets off the hook near the door, Jill stopped and thought about something. "Er...hold on." She disappeared down the hallway, and went to Wesker's office. Returning a moment later, she smiled and nodded for Chris to get going with her.

"Figured I'd ask." She offered with a shrug as they stepped out into the cool October air. Chris shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Why bother? As if he'd want to eat breakfast like a regular human person, robots don't have to eat, Jill." Shaking her head at him, Jill elbowed him.

"Oh, come on. He's not a robot, he's serious, that's it."

"He's an ass."

"No, you don't get it, you don't know how he talks to me when other people aren't there." At the sarcastic eye-roll he received from Jill he shoved her playfully, but still felt the same about Wesker. Joining the line in the coffee place, they ordered everything and scooped it all up.

"Okay, fine. Give me an example." Reluctantly, Chris asked her not to mention it to anyone, and told her everything that happened after the shoot out. Her eyebrows went up and she shook her head. "Chris, it doesn't sound like he was threatening you, it just sounds like he was fed up and tired and you were bugging him a little bit. Just chill out, I'm sure he _would_ tell you if you screwed up." Feeling only slightly better, he swore her to secrecy again before settling back downstairs with the rest of Alpha to divvy up the breakfast food. The rest of the day went by a bit quicker, and they went on a group patrol that night, minus Wesker who gave them the order and said he had business to take care of elsewhere, before driving off.

"How mysterious." Jill said with a laugh, but Chris was glad Wesker wouldn't be there. "But at least we can sleep in tomorrow and enjoy our first holiday together. Tomorrow's Halloween and we don't have to work. I, personally, plan on getting drunk. Anyone have any plans?" Barry nodded and said he'd be taking his girls out trick'o'treating, and Joseph and Brad invited Chris and Jill to join them at the Raccoon Pub for drinks and games all night. The rest of the night went by in a dull blur, and all five of them elected to take it easy and get lots of sleep so they could enjoy their day off together.

Wesker still hadn't returned, at least to Chris' knowledge, the next morning, and remained gone for the entire day. Not wanting to even think about Wesker on their day off, Chris spent the entire day wandering around with Barry and Jill, meeting up with Joseph and Brad for lunch and then wandering to a party store to get costumes.

"I'm going to be a pirate!" Jill laughed as she rifled through a rack of tiny pirate costumes, all of which Chris thought he'd love to see her in. Barry only bought somethings for his house, checking his watch constantly to monitor when he should leave to head home. Brad shrugged and said he'd just wear one of the pilot suits, and Joseph chose a skeleton body suit with a matching mask. Browsing the rows and rows of costumes, Chris thought he didn't really wanna dress up. When he and Claire had been kids, they stopped trick or treating early on, and instead voted for going to a haunted house and then home to watch slasher flicks. Smiling at the memory, he settled on a tacky cowboy outfit, which Jill howled with laughter at when she saw it.

"Oh you'll be so handsome!" Poking Chris, he gave her a grin, thinking that maybe he'd pick up his flirting with her again and see if he might get a kiss out of her that night. Once the costumes were paid for, the group made their way slowly back to the station, and all relaxed, eating a pizza and laughing about a number of things. Around five Barry took off to go home, and another hour after that Jill made them all get up and go to get changed into their costumes. Peeking inside Wesker's office, Chris couldn't help but notice it looked almost untouched from the last time he'd peeked inside. A small stack of papers, his sleeping computer, and bare desk looked almost as if there was no captain that currently occupied them. Wandering down the hallway, Chris paused before he went into his room, and lightly tapped on Wesker's bedroom door. A moment went by and Chris tried the handle, but found it locked. He knocked again more forcefully but after no response gave up and went to dressing himself up.

Even Chris laughed when he saw his ridiculous cowboy outfit in the mirror, and Jill poked and prodded him, arranging his sheriff badge carefully on his chest and saying 'howdy partner'. Grinning at her, Chris looked appreciatively at the way the black corset of her pirate outfit hugged her athletic frame. _She is really pretty y'know. Why don't you drop your weird obsession with Wesker, huh?_ The group of them took off down the street, laughing and pretending to be their costumes all the way down to the pub, which was packed with people in costumes ranging from boring to ridiculous. Raccoon City wasn't a giant city by any means, but it had enough people in it to feel like a city to Chris, and certainly more than enough people to make a decent turnout for a Halloween party at a pub. The walls were decorated with fake spiderwebs and plastic skeletons, while carved pumpkins sat all throughout the bar, the smell of pumpkin seeds and alcohol mingled with the burning of candles. Claiming one of the pool tables as their own, they ordered several pitchers of beer and helped themselves to the free food and candy that was set up all along the bar.

"It's too bad Wesker couldn't come, I think it'd do him good to relax just once." Jill shouted to Chris over the increasing volume of the pub. Watching Joseph stumble as he attempted to steady himself to shoot at the 8-ball, and shrugged.

"Can you even picture him here?" This elicited a laugh from Jill who scrunched up her face in mock concentration.

"No, I guess not." Pouring herself and Chris another full glass of beer, she clinked her glass against his own, and took a deep sip while peeking at Chris over the rim of the glass. "Was Barry telling the truth when we first started? Captain Wesker's the first one you've actually listened to?" Chris looked at her, took a sip of beer and looked away, swallowing and nibbling the inside of his lip.

"Yeah...I guess he is." Thinking about his previous captains and other figures of authority, Chris was slightly amazed that of all of them it was Wesker that held his respect. _Attempts at respect. And it ain't coming easy._ Before Jill brought it up he hadn't really thought about why it was he tried so hard to respect and impress Wesker. Maybe it was because he felt this really could have been his last chance, or maybe there was just something about Wesker himself. _Maybe it's because he seems so damn hard to impress._ "I don't really know why, I guess...I don't know, I guess I'm just tired of feeling like the disobedient kid on the team."

Joseph yanked Chris away from Jill and shoved the pool cue into his hand, laughing as Chris attempted to get his remaining stripes into the holes. Already feeling the effects of his four glasses of beer so far, he was deeply relieved it was the weekend when he went back to Jill and found she'd ordered them all a round of tequila shots. Once the pool game was ended, they all ended up at a long table playing a drinking game with a deck of cards, Chris losing the more he drank, and consequently having to drink the more he lost. By midnight, all of them were good and drunk and Brad stood as best he could, and announced his departure. Jill, Joseph and Chris all begged him to stay but his hiccough made him shake his head and wobble off to get a cab. Jill turned with sad eyes and begged Joseph and Chris to stay, and Chris was drunk enough to just begin feeling confident enough to see if she'd make-out with him. Moving to the couch, he was about to drop down when he slid his hand into his pocket and found it empty. Swaying on his feet, he started rifling through his pockets and feeling a weight sink in his stomach.

"Fuck...I left my keys in my...real er, real pants." Snorting with laughter, Jill and Joseph started laugh too, but Chris thought dully that he needed to run back and get his apartment key before he got too drunk to remember and passed out. "I'll be back. Save me one last glass will ya?" Eyeing Joseph and Jill and vaguely wondering if Joseph would try anything with her, he started off back down the street. The whole way back to the police station was filled with the loud sounds of laughter and partying from the various pubs, and Chris wished he'd just asked Joseph if he could crash at his place. _Or Jill..._ Smiling drunkenly to himself, Chris felt a bit guilty thinking about her. _She's not just some..._ thing _you can make-out with whenever you want. Shouldn't think about her like that, she's not some random girl she's your friend...your...your team-mate._ Pulling his stupid cowboy jacket tighter against the cool autumn wind, he frowned to himself and the sour direction his drunk thoughts were moving. _Oh, okay then you can't think about making out with Jill, but jerking off thinking about Wesker is fine._ Frowning to himself again, he made a face a continued his wobbly walk back to the station. "No...it's not...not _fine_ exactly..." _Ah, but why don't you feel bad about doing that then? Why doesn't that rub you the wrong way?_ Snickering with laughter to himself at his own double entendre, he shook his head and reached up to rub his hand through his hair. "Fuck, I'm really drunk."

Stumbling up the stairs at the police station, he pushed his way though the door. Where the receptionist usually sat was empty, and only a few scattered officers gave him a nod and a laugh as he tipped his cowboy hat at them and wandered his way down to the Alpha common area. Eager to get back to the Raccoon Pub and interrupt whatever Joseph was doing with Jill, he found himself back in his room and bent over to root through his pants pocket. "C'mon c'mon c'mon, where are you..." Standing and frowning, he thought of his utility vest and rummaged through that, then his shirt pocket, and then ended up collapsed on the floor running his hand under his clothes. _Wesker would kill me if he saw how messy I left this place..._ His hands running over the cold ground, they finally found his ring of keys, his car and apartment keys jingling together merrily. Grinning at them, he hoisted himself up using his bed, swung his door shut and locked it and went to stroll back out, only on his way out noticing that Wesker's office door was open and the light was on. Peeking back around the corner at the dorm hallway, Wesker's bedroom door was open, but dark, which was never the case when they were all there. Frowning, Chris approached the open door of his captain's office, and didn't immediately notice anything. Just as he was turning to go, he heard the familiar swig of a bottle and took a hesitant step into his office.

"S-sir?" Struggling not to hiccup, he was aware he probably reeked of alcohol, yet he continued into his captain's office. Around the other side of the desk, Wesker sat on the floor, his chair pushed to the side and a large bottle of whiskey on the floor in front of him. Around him and scattered were papers with the RCPD heading on each. Wesker himself sat with his back against the desk, his elbows against his knees and his palms pressed against his eyes. Several strands of hair hung loose against his head, and Chris realized with drunken fuzziness that Wesker had been drinking a good portion of the night too. From the ground, he muttered something and Chris turned to see if anyone else was here. _Nope, Halloween night, Bravo's working and you're here all alone with him._ "Erm...did you, did you say something?" It was all Chris could do to not slur his words together.

"Too much...too much _work_..." Wesker slurred, reaching for his bottle and taking a deep swig of the amber liquid. Letting his head lean back against the desk, his brows drew together and he rested his arms straight out against his knees so the bottle dangled precariously between his fingers. "Not supposed to have to do _everything_..." Still muttering, he took a deep drink again and Chris debated whether or not he should just leave. But he was _alone_ with Wesker... _Oh what? You think this is when you can announce your creepy infatuation with him? What if he gives me shit for being here?_ Frowning Chris took a step backwards. _Ah, but couldn't he just as easily give you shit for leaving? No...no that makes no sense..._

"Do you er, need anything? Captain?" Wesker turned and looked at Chris, narrowing his eyes and appearing to be sizing Chris up. Finally he reached behind him with the hand not holding the bottle and heaved himself to his feet, taking a deep drink again and putting the bottle down on the table with a loud thud.

"Go away, Redfield." Sweeping forwards and gathering all of the scattered papers together, he unlocked his desk drawer, threw them all inside, and slammed it shut, locking it again. Frowning his captain, he went to step around the desk again.

"Well you...w-what's too much work? S.T.A.R.S.?" Turning around quickly, Wesker leered at Chris, not a trace of a smirk or sarcasm anywhere in his features.

"I said go _away_ , Redfield. I don't need any help." His tone was that low, threatening one that Chris hated, but was also intimidated by. Despite the volume of liquid missing from the whiskey bottle, Wesker didn't sway on his feet the way Chris did, nor did he slur his words together. But Chris could still smell the whiskey on his captain's breath, and studied the way he clenched his jaw together, and how different he looked with even just a few strands of hair out of place. Moving away from Chris, Wesker turned back to his desk, drank, and started rummaging through the papers cluttered there, gathering them all together. Huffing to himself, Chris held himself as steady as he could and crossed his arms, feeling bold from the alcohol and annoyed at Wesker's arroganance.

"Y'know, I don't give a shit if you're my captain, that doesn't give you a right to be such a dick all the time." Wesker whipped around so fast Chris didn't even have time to react. Shoving Chris as hard as he could, the brunette slammed backwards against the wall, his elbow cracking against the door frame and the wind almost being totally knocked out of him. Anger flooded him and he went to take a step forward ready to shove Wesker back and not giving a damn if it cost his whole career but Wesker was faster. Closing the distance in between them, he shoved Chris back again, making the room spin dizzily, and slammed his forearm across the younger man's chest, leering close to him. Struggling against his grip, Chris regretted all of the alcohol as the slam against the wall made his stomach churn.

"Get _off_ , I can't--" but before Chris could finish his thought, _breathe, I can't fucking breathe_ , Wesker closed the distance between them and crushed his mouth over Chris' in a kiss that completely made Chris forget everything else. Freezing, his struggles abandoned, Chris was so surprised the anger rushed out of him. It wasn't a sweet kiss, not even close, and there was no doubt at all that despite Chris' surprise that Wesker was in control of every move Chris was, or was not, able to make. It felt as though there were ice water running through his insides instead of blood, and it was the most sobering thing that could have happened. Just as Chris was beginning to process what was happening, Wesker pulled away from him, taking a step back. Still glaring at each other, Chris stood panting, frozen, and in absolute shock. Without saying a word, he turned out of the office and run out of the S.T.A.R.S. common area, stumbling up the stairs, outside and down the street before he came to a shaky stop around the corner, leaning over with his hands on his knees and panting, all the alcohol swirling dangerously in his stomach.

_What the_ fuck _just happened._


	9. Who Do You Think You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* Poor Chris.

“Are you just going to smoke and sit out here the entire time I’m visiting?” Claire Redfield sat across from Chris on one of the two folding chairs he had on his balcony with a heavy flannel blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Sitting with one foot against the railing and the other bouncing a hundred miles a minute, Chris was lighting the first cigarette of his third pack for the whole weekend. Taking a deep drag on it, he blew the smoke out in a straight line away from her, and chewed the inside of his lip.

“I’m sorry, it’s just...” _Just that my captain kissed me instead of beating the crap out of me while we were both drunk in his office on Halloween._ “...just work. Work’s just...getting to me.” Giving his little sister what he hoped was an apologetic smile, he studied her sitting there. Claire Redfield, like always, had her red hair pulled into a ponytail, and was dressed in a black biker's jacket and ripped jeans, cowboy boots sitting on the ground under her chair and her feet tucked up underneath her, buried under that blanket. Not wanting her to poke at him anymore, and god only knew that she would, Chris leaned back in his chair and tried to relax. "How's school so far?" Shrugging, Claire took a deep drink from the beer bottle and looked out over the balcony at the semi-decent view of Raccoon City his apartment had.

"It's okay. All the guys in my program suck." Pulling a face, Chris shot her a look.

"You're not there for guys."

"And _you're_ not dad."

Claire returned the look and Chris shoved her foot off of the table, making her huff at him as her beer spilled onto her pants. "You're also lucky you missed the boots."

"I have just dicked around all weekend, haven't I?" Giving Claire a shy look, he checked the time and suggested they go out for some burgers and beer. "I gotta get up early tomorrow, we have a debriefing at 9, then I guess it's a patrol day." The idea of spending the day anywhere near Wesker made Chris' heart hammer in his chest because there was no _way_ either of them were just not going to talk about Halloween night. Grabbing their coats and heading out into the cool autumn evening, they got into Chris' car and drove to one of the burger places close to Chris'. As much as he wanted to go to the Raccoon Pub, he was to nervous to see anyone from work and have to deal with Claire railing him with questions. _Not that she hasn't been doing that all weekend anyways._ "I really am sorry I haven't been the greatest big brother this weekend." This earned a sniff from Claire.

"Oh, it's fine darling brother. You only see your poor, school submerged sister but once every three moons." Snorting with laughter, Chris pulled up in front of the burger joint, and Claire made a dramatic show of getting out of the car. "Honestly, Christopher, it is but a privilege to spend a weekend with me and you've dawdled it all away." Giving Claire a shove as they went in and sat down, Claire joined his laughter and began talking about the huge party she'd been to on Friday night and how hard it was to drive completely hungover, which earned a disapproving glare from Chris.

"That bike is dangerous enough in the middle of a sunny day totally sober, and you drove six hours here hungover?" An eye roll and a kick under the table from Claire made Chris realize just how much he missed hanging out with his little sister. As they ate and laughed together, Chris finally stopped dwelling on Friday night long enough to enjoy his Sunday evening, and by the time he and Claire got home and settled in for the end of a bad slasher film, Chris was feeling alright about himself. It got later and later, and finally around midnight, Claire rose to her feet and stretched.

"I should get to sleep, gotta get up at six if I wanna drive back home in time for class. Although, I'll probably just crash instead of going anyways." Snatching up her things, Claire gave her brother a big hug, snuggling against him. "I miss you, y'know. Come down to the campus some weekend and teach me how to fight. And for shit-sakes, put on some cologne after you smoke if you ever want a date again." Laughing, Chris pinched her cheek before she disappeared down the hallway. _You should go to sleep too, don't wanna be late and draw more attention to yourself than you already will tomorrow._ Settling back on the couch, Chris' anxiety about facing Wesker returned, his heart skipping beats in his chest. _Why freak out? You did nothing, you literally did nothing..._ Slumping down into the cushions, Chris folded his arms across his chest and frowned at the TV, watching but not absorbing the old X-Files episode that was playing. _...nothing except swear at him. And move like you were gonna shove him. And ignore him when he told you to go away. And kiss him back._ Heart flipping, he felt a heat rise in his cheeks. _Yeah, but you didn't start that. And it's not...there wasn't...tongue, or anything._ Squirming at the thought, Chris wondered what would happen if he just didn't show up. Ridiculous thoughts of running away with Claire and becoming a regular old cop in some far away city were mixing with the memory of how Wesker had shoved him back against the wall, that look in his eyes that Chris had assumed was anger, or could he...

Loud knocking jolted Chris awake, and he squinted at the bright sunlight streaming through his windows. Panic settled into Chris' chest, and he looked at his watch seeing that it was almost 8:30. _Fuck fuck fuck! I passed out on the couch, shit, I haven't showered, I'm not dressed..._ Stumbling over to the doorway, he yanked it open to see Jill leaning against the frame, holding a tray of two coffees and a brown paper bag, a grin on her face. "How did I just know you'd still be sleeping?" Greeting her, he ushered her in and closed the door behind her.

"Er, morning. Can you, uh, I just gotta change." Laughing, Jill set the coffees down and waved him off. Chris yelled an apology about the mess over his shoulder and ran into the bathroom. He crammed his toothbrush into his mouth and surveyed the slight stubble and messiness of his hair. Brushing his teeth and splashing water through his hair, Chris frowned at his appearance and ran into his bedroom, grabbing the first clothes he could see before running out with Jill again.

"You are so lucky I know all the shortcuts to get to work. Rough weekend?" Nudging the bag and coffee towards Chris, he gratefully accepted and drank down the hot liquid. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a muffin and began munching on it despite the anxious wiggling of his stomach. "You said you'd be back on Friday night but then never showed. I mean, I remember you said your sister was visiting but I still, I don't know...I'm glad you made it home." Storing away the muffin for later, Chris held his coffee against his chest and gave Jill a grateful smile.

"I'm also so lucky I happen to have a wonderful friend who decided to surprise me with coffee and a ride to work." _Even though you're so scared to show your face that you can't eat or remember to take care of yourself in the morning._ Jill gave him another smile and told him not to worry about it. Pulling into the RCPD lot just after 8:50, and Jill and Chris scrambled to get inside on time. Rushing downstairs, they joined Barry and Brad in the common area.

"Boy are you lucky that Captain Wesker isn't here yet." Brad laughed, and Barry lifted an eyebrow and asked what exactly Jill was doing on a Monday morning before work with Chris. Throwing him a look, Jill folded her arms and began to defend herself as Wesker opened the common room door, Enrico in tow. Heart flying into his throat, Wesker walked by all of them and took Enrico into the debriefing room, talking hurriedly. Emerging, he gave Chris a look and told him to go get his uniform on. Flushing and looking at the floor, Chris nodded and walked as fast as he could down to his room. Behind him he heard Wesker begin ordering Alpha into the room to prep for debriefing. Coming back as fast as he could and strapping his weapon holster to his hip, Chris paused when he saw only Wesker in the room.

"You're coming with me." Wide eyed, Chris looked from Wesker to the board room. As if reading his mind, Wesker turned and began walking out of the room, Chris hurrying to catch up. "Enrico is giving it. You and I have somewhere else to be." Heart pounding in his chest, Chris followed Wesker to his car and slid into the passenger seat. Speeding out of the lot, Wesker turned and drove in the direction of the entertainment district. Keeping totally still and stiff in his seat, Chris stared out of the window wondering where they were going. He wasn't anywhere near about to ask and Wesker was making no move to tell him. Silence filled the car and Chris felt tingly and cold all the way to...

"Holy shit," Leaning forward in his seat, Chris watched out his window as Wesker pulled into the parking lot of the strip club...or what was left of it. Only a black, smoking foundation was left and all of the employees and customers that had been inside stood in a clustered, huddled group halfway through the parking lot. Fire trucks with men wrapping up the hoses surrounded the club, and the fire chief stood with a group of RCPD detectives and arson investigators. Giving Wesker a startled look, his captain got out of the car without looking at him, and Chris rushed out after him, staring at the ruins.

"Captain Wesker, Redfield," the fire chief nodded at them. "Just finishing up on our part, although I'll be staying around to give you the run down. Cause was a couple of molotovs thrown through the windows 'round 5am this morning, luckily nobody was hurt too bad. There's one dead girl, but...well, maybe you should just go see yourself." Gesturing at the ambulance, Wesker looked at Chris and the pair walked over. One of the detectives Chris had seen around the station before gave them a grim nod and waved them over to the stretcher and body bag outside of the truck.

"I was advised Alpha would be here. I'm aware you questioned this young woman a short while ago, we believe this incident to be directly connected to your case." Pulling the body bag open, Chris felt his jaw drop open as he looked at the pale face of Jade, a single bullet hole in her head and dried blood in her hair. "Sonya Leonards, twenty-two. She worked in the club, the other girls identified her."

"Where was she found?" Wesker's voice betrayed no emotion, and the detective pointed at the smoldering ruins.

"The dumpster behind. Lid was open, and the whole thing had been pushed in front of the place. This was attached to her." The detective handed Wesker a ziplocked bag with a paper inside of it. Skimming over it, Wesker's mouth formed a tight line and he handed it to Chris, who took it tentatively and read what was there.

_'Find another club to do your digging, pigs.'_ Chris looked from the note, to Jade, to the note again feeling a wave of guilt. _No, not your fault. Parcini. And all the more reason to get him._ Wesker took the bag from Chris and told him to go and speak to all of the people who had been inside of the building at the time. Feeling unsettled at seeing Jade like that, Chris spoke to all of the other girls but received no information. A few refused to speak to him at all until he ordered them, and Chris knew that they remembered and probably blamed he and Wesker. _Well, if Parcini didn't know you were cops before, he knows now._ Chris thought as he finished his rounds and reported to Wesker. Telling him to wait in the car, Wesker went back to speak with the bartender and Chris sat bouncing his knee in the car. Jumping out of his thoughts as Wesker slammed the car door behind him, Chris fastened his seatbelt.

"So...what now?"

"Now we operate in the open. Parcini knows we're cops but doesn't know about the S.T.A.R.S. unit. We have from now until January to operate as regular detectives, because at most Parcini will credit us to being a part of the organized crime unit with no knowledge of the team's qualifications." Swinging the car into the lot, he brought them to a stop and undid his seatbelt. "We get everything we can on him and his organization until the new year, and then we take them down. All at once." The pair walked in together, Chris drumming his fingers on the side of his notebook. "Spend the rest of today typing the report, add it on to what you have from the previous month and keep it all in the Parcini file, including the fire. Once you've finished that, I want a comprehensive search of every single person who works at the club, or has worked there over the last five years. I want every piece of information you can gather on them. The report takes priority, I want it written up by this evening. Bring it to my office once you've finished. And before you do all of that, go over the debriefing from today with someone from Alpha. Preferably Valentine, she's the most reliable for information relation." Chris gave a stiff nod, and a quiet 'yes sir' as Wesker turned and went to his office, shutting the door behind him. Chris went in to the computer room and dropped his notebook down on the desk he commonly occupied, glad to see Jill at her maps again.

Going over the events of the day with Jill, he listened as she filled Chris in on what the rest of Alpha had been doing, and offered once they had caught up to go out and pick him up some lunch. The rest of the day was spent with Chris typing his report, adding it to what he already had, and munching down the fries and cheese-steak Jill had brought him. The actual report took Chris just around two hours to write, read over, and file away, but he just didn't want to go to Wesker's office. He knew that once he was in there he would just think of that night; the alcohol, the shove against the wall, the way his captain's mouth had felt on his...

"Still at it?" Chris jumped at the loud boom of Barry's voice. Rubbing his eyes, Chris looked at the scribbled notes he had taken beside the long list of names. _And this is just the people who currently work there._ Chris thought, bitterly. This was annoying, pencil pushing shit that Wesker could have given any bored cop but instead had given it to him. Patting him on the back, Barry promised him a beer and not to work too late. A deep growl from his stomach made Chris look at the clock and see that it was already six. He was technically off the clock, but he hadn't heard Wesker emerge from his office all day. Picking the papers up, Chris made it halfway to Wesker's office before he turned around and threw the papers back on his desk, grabbing his coat and hurrying out the door instead. _Fuck it, he said by 'this evening', it's still this evening. You need to eat. Just, just give it to him when you get back._ Worrying his way down the street to the Mexican place, he shoved down three tacos and a side of chips and guac, also ordering two tequila shots while he was at it. Nervously, he sighed, seeing the time was getting close to eight. _Alright, coward.. It's almost out of evening and into night. You wanna get in shit and have to do more lame ass crap? Go and give him the report and then leave._ Leaving cash on the table, he drudged his way through the cold back to the RCPD.

Grabbing the papers off the desk where he left them, he rubbed his eyes and wandered out into the empty common room. _Just when you need everyone to be around they're all off doing who-knows-what._ Seeing Wesker's closed door, he sidled his way over, took a shaky breath and knocked. _Don't answer don't answer don't answer don't--_ "Come in." _Fuck._ Chris slid open the door and took a step in. Wesker sat behind his desk, the room illuminated by the office lamp that sat on top of it, and was leaning back, one leg crossed over the other and reading a stack of papers that rested on his knee.

"The uh, the report. About today." Avoiding looking at him, Wesker was silent a moment.

"Leave it on the desk." Another silence as Chris slid it across the table top, and nodded. "And the rest of the report? The employee records?" Rising from his desk, Wesker shuffled everything together and put most of it into a folder which he slipped into the black briefcase he'd had with him that first day Chris met him. The rest, he put into that drawer in his desk that he kept locked. Glancing up at him, Chris toed the edge of the carpet with his boot.

"It's coming along. There's uh, a lot of people who work there. And they've all seem to have a criminal record." Hearing a chuckle and the sound of Wesker grabbing his coat, Chris looked up and watched him swing his black waistcoat around his uniform.

"Yes, they have. I imagine it will take you the rest of the week to sort through all of them." Chris felt a small anger flare inside of him. _I knew it, I knew he was giving you a shit job to do, I bet everyone else gets to keep patrolling and doing recon work while you're stuck...no. No don't argue. Just say 'yes sir' like a good soldier and go._ Nodding stiffly, Chris said his 'yes sir' and turned to leave. "Redfield, one more thing."

Chris turned to Wesker, who closed the space in between him, shoving Chris backwards against the door and causing it to close. Moving up against him, again he drew their mouths together in a deep kiss, this one taking Chris as much by surprise as the first one had. His heart stammering in his chest, Chris froze, his back stiff against the door. Wesker's body moved closer to his, and when he felt Wesker put his hand against the door beside Chris' head, the marksman felt an erection grow in his pants. Feeling his face burn, he let his captain kiss him, but when Wesker's tongue grazed Chris' lip, Chris couldn't make himself stop; he tentatively opened his mouth and let their tongues meet. Moving his hand from the wall into Chris' hair, Wesker pulled his head back slightly, slipping his tongue against Chris' who remained frozen and aroused and shoved up in between his captain and the doorway. Breathing in Wesker's scent, tasting him, feeling his tongue moving so naturally and forcefully against his own was making the younger man's heart beat so wildly he thought it would explode out of his chest. Chris squirmed and the only thing he could think of was to not moan, not until he could get a better understanding on what the _fuck_ was happening. Pulling away from Chris, their eyes burned into each other's and Chris felt the heat in his cheeks rivaling the heat between his legs.

"You should spend some time in the hot tub tonight, now that I've given you something to really think about." Wesker's voice was a low hum, and because he stood so close Chris could feel the deep vibrations of his voice. Eyes widening at his words, the blush remained for a whole different reason, and Wesker gave him a smirk, reaching behind Chris and yanking the door open.

"Wha-"

"I won't be here until Friday, I have things to do elsewhere. Marini is in charge." Picking up the case off of the floor, Wesker swept out of the room, not looking back at Chris as he walked away. "And you better finish that report by the time I return." Striding off, Wesker left Chris leaning against the door frame of his office, embarrassed and panting, a hard-on in his pants and a look of bewilderment left on his face.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday passed with no real difference between each day except that Friday got closer and closer and Chris got more and more confused. Confused about Wesker's treatment of him, giving him the shit assignments; confused about the weird attraction Chris had for him; confused about why despite everything else Chris had jerked off to the thought of him more times than he could count; confusion as to what _exactly_ Wesker had meant by his hot tub comment, and more than anything he was confused by what the fuck had happened between Wesker and him. Twice.

On Thursday night, Chris couldn't sit still and spent the night embodying the anxiety that had settled in his stomach; pacing and smoking, running laps, punching everything he could in the gym, swimming lap after lap after lap, and sitting at the computer staring at all those names and dates and arrests with his knee bouncing a million miles a minute. Realizing that his assignment would not be done by Friday, Chris resigned himself to sitting on the steps of the RCPD, smoking and trying to think of what to tell Wesker the next day.

_Tell him you can't fucking do it. Tell him it's too much even if the whole team was working on it, how am I supposed to inventory every fucking person who worked at that strip club?_ Throwing the butt to the ground, he immediately pulled another cigarette free and began smoking it. _Tell him you can't fucking think about anything but his fucking tongue in your mouth._ That was the thought Chris really didn't want to think about, because if he did the confusion mixed with arousal stayed with him for hours, and Chris had blatantly refused to jerk off thinking about Wesker. _Jerk off thinking about him...I'm not even gay._ That's what confused Chris about the whole situation. The underlying wonder. _I've never in my life thought about another guy like that. Let alone fucking make out with one._ Sure, Chris had plenty of opportunities, and that's what happened so frequently in his line of work. But he had no excuse here; there was Jill and her playful teasing, Rebecca Chambers on Bravo who, sure, was a bit too young, but cute all the same. _Hell, there's even that secretary who works upstairs. So why why why is it Wesker?_

"Oh, hell no. You were smoking when I left, and you're still smoking? Let's go, I'm helping you with that list." Chris jumped at Jill's voice, seeing her standing in front of him in uniform and hands on her hips. Sighing, Chris threw the half smoked cigarette into the damp gutter, and went inside with her. "You relax without nicotine for an hour, and I'll get to work on these." Jill worked diligently with Chris, and the pair spent their time looking up names and laughing together and stupid things each person had been arrested for. But they didn't have to worry at all because Wesker didn't appear at all on Friday. Shrugging, Enrico said they could finish up their assignments and leave early for the weekend. A boom of laughter from Barry, and Joseph suggested that all of S.T.A.R.S. go for beers and pool that night. Enrico laughed and agreed.

With the help of Jill, Chris actually had a full report ready to go just before they left, and he promised he'd buy her drinks all night. This earned him a laugh and a flip of her hair, replying that after all the bagels she'd bought him he owed her the whole damn bar. Finding Wesker's office door locked, he slipped it under the door, and headed out with the rest of S.T.A.R.S. Despite all the confusing events of the last little while, Chris had a great time out with everyone and found himself hardly thinking about Wesker at all. Forest began a pool challenge with Chris, which resulted in Chris sinking the eight ball and Forest play fighting him until both had fallen over and were killing themselves laughing. Jill even spent a decent amount of time, half leaning on Chris on the pub's couch and chatting about Claire, and about Jill's family, all the while Chris thinking about how nice she smelled. The weekend ended up being enjoyable too, with Forest inviting Chris to go to the gun shop with him, both of them chatting with Kendo until long after the store had closed. Sunday was spent productively by Chris, who went for a jog after he woke up, stocked up on some necessities, did all of his laundry, and changed his bed sheets. He even changed the sheets in the guest room since Claire had said she was gonna try and come back for Thanksgiving in a couple of weeks.

Chris spent Sunday evening at Barry's house visiting with Kathy and their girls, waving goodbye and catching the train home just after ten. Once back at his apartment, Chris settled in for a night of beers and old episodes of the X-Files again, while letting his good weekend slowly become replaced with the usual feelings about returning to work. Deciding that enough was enough, Chris talked himself into confronting Wesker. _There's not just me involved in half of this crap, he started it. He kissed you, and..._ A headache formed behind his eyes, and he ended up going for a late night run just to tire himself out.

Morning came much faster than Chris anticipated, and when he got into his car to drive himself to work for once, it refused to start. Letting his head drop onto his hands on the steering wheel, he sighed taking this as an omen for how the rest of the day was going to turn out. The train took so long, that by the time he ran down to the Alpha common room, he was too anxious about being late to be anxious about anything else. Still he needn't have worried, since Enrico stood in place of Wesker, giving Joseph a shrug when he was asked where Wesker was.

"Today is Bravo's field shift regardless, and Wesker didn't call to give you any new work, so I suppose do what needs doing on your team, and help Bravo should we call for it."

"I don't think Enrico is a huge Captain Wesker fan." Barry said quietly when Enrico had left them to their work. Looking across the lounge at Barry, Jill dropped down onto the couch and creased her brow together.

"What makes you say that?"

She asked, and Chris couldn't help but notice that despite the number of empty seats she still chose to sit beside him. _You sound like a child._

"I don't know, the way he talks about him. All professional courtesy, "your captain", "the way _he_ does things"...plus, I think he's weary about where Wesker spends all of this absent time." Looking for Chris to Jill, he had leaned in conspiratorially. "I think Marini thinks Wesker's taking off to do non-S.T.A.R.S. business." At this, Jill rolled her eyes.

"Like what, spending time at strip clubs?" Chris' heart jumped at that, but Jill hadn't made any indication that she was teasing him.

"I think he thinks Wesker just doesn't like working here. Like he thinks he's above it or something."

"He can be a massive prick." Chris chimed in, shrugging at the face Barry made at him. Lifting a finger to him, Chris got to his feet to go and clean his guns. "And don't give me that 'problem with authority' crap, Burton. I've had more than enough of that."

The hours went by relatively quickly, Chris spending his morning cleaning his gun, then practice shooting, then practice combat after an extended lunch with Jill and Brad. Cooling off with a swim, Chris was relieved when Jill challenged him to a race and Barry climbed the wall bordering the hot tub and the rest of the room to sit and monitor their progress. Exhausted, Jill said she was going to pass out early, and Barry said he had to run and do his laundry because he'd forgotten during the weekend. Taking a long, relaxing shower, Chris had almost totally forgotten about Wesker until he was wandering his way back to his bedroom to relax and saw Wesker's office door open. Heart pounding, he went to walk past but paused, just down the hallway. _Go and put your pants on before you charge in there in your swim trunks to ask what's happening._

"Redfield." Heart pounding in his chest, he recognized it wasn't an inquiry as to whether or not he was there, but an order. _Only Wesker could say my name and have it sound like a command._ Sliding the door open, he stepped inside, self-conscious of his wet feet in his shoes, damp swim shorts and t-shirt. Gesturing to the chair, Chris debated asking if he could go change, but decided to do it anyways. Shoving a stack of papers across the desk at Chris, Wesker crossed his arms and gave him a long, level stare. "What's that?" Hesitantly, he took a look and recognized the list of names he and Jill had finished on Friday night.

"The...report you wanted? I finished it Friday night like you wanted, that's what I--"

"The next time I ask you to do something, _you_ do it. Not Miss Valentine." Wesker snapped. Chris looked up from the papers at him, and felt the wad of annoyance coming undone in his stomach. _Keep it together, Redfield, keep your shit together..._

"I _was_ doing it, but it was way too much and she was done all of her work. I didn't ask her, she offered to help." Huffing, and heart beating hard in his chest, Chris felt his annoyance shift into anger. "And besides, you'll probably just make me stay here instead of investigate any of those people anyways since that's all I seem to be good for on this team." Wesker's chair screeched against the floor as he stood from it suddenly, leaning forward with his hands flat on the desk and glared at Chris.

"I'm your captain, Redfield. You'll do the work that I see fit for you to do, unless I tell you otherwise." Furious, Chris shoved himself to his feet out of his own chair and felt the tether holding his respect in place break.

"Or what, you'll make out with me again?" He spat, turning on his heel and meaning to storm out of the room, but Wesker was not letting him get away. From behind him, Wesker shoved Chris, hard, and he collided with the wall beside the door. Recovering much faster than the last time, Chris whipped around and let the anger that had blossomed in his stomach come forward. Shoving Wesker back, his captain was moved back a step, and Chris went to swing a hard fist to his face, but Wesker reacted before Chris had the chance. A fist in Chris' stomach knocked the wind out of him, and when he doubled over, Wesker's hand was to Chris' throat, and he shoved him back violently against the wall, moving close to him and making Chris struggle for air.

"I don't know where you've gotten this misplaced self-righteous belief that you're above the office work you've been told to do," His voice was a quiet, dangerous growl and Chris struggled against the wall, raking his fingers against Wesker's arm to try and yank himself free and give him some room to breathe. Pulling him forward by the throat, the blonde slammed him back against the door again, this time making the room spin dizzily from the mixture of his head slamming the wall and the lack of oxygen moving to his brain. "But you are _not_ the star marksman you think. I could have just as easily thrown you out of my office the day I read your pathetic excuse of a resume, so don't let your position on this team fool you into thinking I have any sort of faith in you. _I'm_ the captain. _I_ make the rules, and you do what _I_ say. You can't do anything about it because you have nowhere left to go." Sneering now, Wesker almost seemed to be enjoying this. The closeness to his captain stopped Chris from being able to haul out and kick him, and he instead focused on fighting the spots that were appearing in his vision. "I _own_ you Chris. And you do what I tell you, _when_ I tell you." Releasing Chris' throat, he fell to the floor, gasping for breath and holding his stomach where Wesker's fist had connected. From somewhere above and behind him, Chris heard the door open and his brain was spinning and whirring. Before he could do anything more than regain his breath, Wesker kicked him, _hard_ , and he fell out into the hallway, the door closing and locking after him leaving the brunette panting and sore on the floor.

Chris had never felt like screaming more in his entire life.


	10. Jerk It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alpha's casework reaches a new level, and so does a few other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels like a really long chapter...but I think I slow-built enough. Chris deserved this, don't you think? It can only go up (down...?) from here.

Sitting in the large, black truck with Wesker behind the wheel, Jill and Chris sat in the back seat, floor and empty space littered with photos, film, and camera equipment. Barry sat in the front seat shotgun to Wesker, and was reading over and over the information that had arisen in regards to their case. Parcini and Brenner had been spotted together almost any time they had appeared throughout Raccoon City, and as such Wesker began combining the recon work he and Chris had been doing with the work Jill and Barry had. The arson at the strip club, and Jade's murder had sent a ripple of tension among S.T.A.R.S., and it seemed to have piqued their Captain's interest in putting an end to Parcini's dictatorial rule over the organized crime community. After a deal of sleuth work, Barry had uncovered what they determined to be Parcini's newest hideout; a large construction site with a row of offices for the site managers collected at the back of the project area.

"Roughly how many?"

"Twelve, sir. Six in the offices with Parcini including Parcini and Brenner, six lingering on the lower levels and throughout the area." Barry said, addressing the charted notebook in his lap. "At least half are armed that I can tell, the others are probably carrying smaller, subcompacts in their jackets or socks. There's at least four guys in the area at all times, even if the two pack leaders are off doin' their dirty work somewhere else." Nodding at this, Wesker threw a look over his shoulder.

"Valentine, approximately how long would you need to go in, set the wires, and get out?" Nibbling her lip, Jill narrowed her eyes in scrutiny over the view of the site the four had.

"Fifteen, twenty tops. The locks are standard, and from what I can tell there's no additional security. We already know they meet in the bank-vaults to discuss the big issues, store paperwork, keep the money..."

"Can you do it in ten to fifteen instead?"

"I think so. Yes." Nodding definitively, Jill's brows creased together in deep thought. "If the offices are all linked together, like I suspect, it should go fairly fast." Nodding, Wesker turned his attention back to where Parcini and Brenner stood partially concealed by a crane.

"Tonight, after midnight we'll return. Pending that Parcini and Brenner are not present, Barry and I will clear the construction area. Burton can overload the generator while I question the site manager for faulty equipment after saying there've been calls reported. It won't fool Brenner or Parcini, but it will fool whatever idiot they put in charge while they're away. Valentine, while Burton and I do that, you go around the back, make sure the area is totally clear before you let yourself in. Redfield will go with you and watch your back. Any sign of trouble, and he will signal you to get out as fast as possible. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Jill said nodding, twirling a lockpick absently in her hand.

"Yes, sir." Leaning against the door, Chris had his chin in his hand and was staring hard at Parcini without really seeing him. The whole day he'd really just been following orders without thinking about them. After suffering through the rest of the week doing drills and equipment runs, Chris had finally been allowed out in the field again. To Barry and Jill, Chris seemed quiet and off, but not particularly moody. He did as he was told, paid his respects as needed, and didn't complain, but inside Chris was still raging. Faint bruises had appeared around his throat the days following the incident in Wesker's office, and despite Forest's taunting jab that Chris must like things rough, hadn't told anyone what had happened between he and Wesker. _What's to fucking say?_ Bitter and resentful, Chris had wanted nothing more than to just forget it and move on. The only relief that had come from the fight, was that he hadn't had any unprofessional thoughts about Wesker at all, except maybe that he wanted to punch him.

Pulling the car out of the apartment parking garage across the street, they drove back to the RCPD where Wesker let them out and gave them an order to be ready and in gear behind the station for eleven that night. Driving off once they were gone, Chris told his friends he was going to the pub to eat an early dinner, and turned down their offer of company. Sitting alone at the bar, Chris drank three beers before telling himself to stop it; he actually had his job to do that night and showing up drunk would do nothing to improve what was happening between he and Wesker. Shoving onion rings into his mouth. Chris thought about how indifferent Wesker was. None of his orders were any different, and his treatment of Chris went back to the cold professionalism of before. _What's his fucking deal?_ Wishing more than ever for Claire to just come back to visit, he had decided he'd tell her what was happening. _Well, not exactly. You'll say a girl who works on the regular force. She's distant and mean. Yadda yadda, the rest stays the same._ He already knew that Claire would tell him to just avoid her and, well, that just wasn't in the books for him. Feeling the hints of tipsiness at the corners of his mind, Chris paid for his food and drinks and headed out. Stopping and getting himself a large coffee on the way back to the station, he pulled out a cigarette and huddled by the front gate, pulling his jacket tightly as he smoked and chugged his coffee. Checking his watch, he saw it was rapidly approaching eight and he finished his smoke and headed back inside. Only Joseph was in the common area, leaning over a folder and reading a stack of papers.

"Barry and Jill went for pizza, Brad left half an hour ago to meet them." Giving Chris a once over, he frowned slightly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Shrugging, Chris slipped his jacket off and tossed out his coffee cup. "Where's Wesker?"

"Said he had to get things ready for tonight, I think he's in the equipment area if you wanna-"

"No. Just wondering." Chris turned on his heel, knowing the coast was clear. "I'm going to the shooting range. Got a mission tonight with Jill and Barry. And Wesker." Joseph made a face at him, adjusting himself on the couch.

"Y'know, I know you might have issues Chris, but don't let _Captain_ Wesker hear you talking like that." Giving Frost a half wave and a shrug, he headed upstairs and went to the shooting range, loading his rifle and firing. Each bullet hit exactly where he wanted it to, and in record time he had spent all of the cartridges and killed enough time that he had to go downstairs and meet the rest of Alpha. Quiet applause from some impressed cops followed him down the hallways and out the back of the department into the rear lot. Jill and Barry stood huddled in their coats by a large truck, and Wesker was finishing loading up the trunk of another grey car. Turning to addressed them, Chris stood as straight as he could, but kept his eyes at the ground while Wesker spoke.

"Two cars. Myself and Burton in that one," he gestured at the grey car. "Valentine and Redfield in that one. Valentine, you'll leave first. Go to the site and wait down the block ten minutes before pulling into the alley across the street. Redfield, you'll stay in the alley until Jill is inside, then climb the scaffolding of the adjacent construction lot. If anything goes wrong and you see a weapon, shoot. Aim not to kill, but causalities from their team can't be helped, and won't cause me to lose much sleep." Nodding stiffly, Wesker ordered them off with Chris thankful to be with Jill for once. An electric kind of nervousness settled in their chests as Chris drove them down to the site, parking and waiting down the street as instructed.

"God, I have a bad feeling." Organizing her lock picks in her lap, Jill set two up on the dash, rolling the rest into a compact cylinder and tucking it inside her jacket. She checked the clip of her Beretta, and slid it into the holster on her hip, pulling her black, fingerless gloves across her hands. The steady, almost tangible excitement that preceded a fight was tickling at Chris, and he checked his two weapons to make sure they were fully loaded. After the time went by, Chris pulled into the alley and the pair got out. Jill ran as quietly as she could across the street, and Chris tracked her over the rifle he had, climbing the scaffolding as instructed. Everything seemed to be going fine as he sat hunched in the dark; he watched Jill crouch run, pick her way in to the offices, and disappear behind the door. Hope was blossoming in his chest that everything would go alright, until he heard the sudden loud crack of rapid gunfire. Heart pounding, Chris kept his eyes trained on the office windows, but when he saw a flash of gunfire from inside, he jumped from the scaffolding and ran, heart pounding.

_Jill, Jill, oh my god please, please let her be okay. Barry...Wesker..._ Gunfire was echoing through the construction area, and there was a large clamor of yelling and swearing, mingled with loud voices that he thought were Barry and Wesker's. Jill swung down from the ladder just as Chris got inside, and she had her weapon drawn, eyes wide.

"They knew something was up the whole time," She half-whispered. "Two guys pulled guns on Barry, Wesker shot them. There was another one climbing to the offices, there's guns in there, he saw me and went to fire so I...I shot him..." Nodding at her, the pair ducked as they went inside and surveyed the scene as quickly as they could. Chris could see neither Barry nor Wesker among the bodies on the ground, but he did see several men hunched behind crates. "They don't know we're here." Jill whispered. Everything seemed calm for several moments, before everything stared happening in quick succession.

Two of the men by the crates shouted and pointed towards the crane before opening fire. From the left, Chris saw Barry leap up during a lull in their shots, and at the same time Wesker swung around from behind the opposite end of the crane, shooting at the men. He was hitting everyone, but there was a guy running hidden in the shadows, and Wesker just noticed him as he rose his weapon and aimed at their captain...

_CRACK_ Chris' single shot took the guy through the chest, and he dropped just as Wesker had finished pointed his weapon at him. Barry's head whipped over in Chris' direction as Wesker kicked the weapon away from the man on the ground, and Jill ran out with her weapon drawn ordering everyone freeze. The remaining three men were rounded up with their hands on their head just as a swarm of RCPD cars pulled into the construction area. Placing his weapon in his holster, Wesker surveyed the scene before turning to look at Chris, who returned the look, still holding his weapon at his side, heart racing faster than he could begin to control.

"That shot was _incredible_!" Jill grinned, patting him on the back. Wesker had just finished getting a summary of what Jill and Chris had done, and he was now speaking to the rest of the emergency response team, giving them all of the information about the scene. Of all the victims, only three died, the man Jill had shot not among them with all causalities the result of Wesker. Returning the grin, Chris shrugged.

"I just, y'know, did my job." Barry joined them and the three of them stood discussing what had happened, when Wesker came over to them. They all stood at semi-attention, and asked what they should do now.

"For tonight, nothing more. Paramedics know what happened, and I've been in communication with both Enrico and Chief Irons to inform them of tonight's action. Tomorrow, we'll do a detailed report of the incident and go through all the necessary paperwork. There's been more than enough action for one night. Burton, you and Valentine take the car back. Redfield, you and I will take the truck. Burton, gather the weapons and make sure what isn't ours is being inventoried by the forensics team." Following Wesker out of the site, they walked across the street and away from all the excitement and light, eyeing the dark truck parked in the alley. Chris took the keys out of his pocket and twirled them on his finger, elated by his good performance, but not expecting anything from Wesker. So when Wesker shoved Chris in between the truck and the dumpster around the corner and hidden from view, it took Chris by complete surprise after such a tense week when Wesker leaned in close and pressed his lips tight against Chris'. Feeling his week-long suppressed emotions blossoming, he also immediately thought of the entire wave of police just across the street. Pulling back from Wesker, he shot a nervous look to the street.

"Shouldn't we...sh-uh..." Instead of answering him, Wesker kissed him again, his tongue meeting Chris' and Chris totally gave in, hooking his fingers into the utility pocket of Wesker's bulletproof vest. Feeling all the blood from his head shooting down to his cock, Chris exhaled sharply into their kiss when he felt Wesker's thigh grind between his legs. All the anger from earlier fled his mind, and Chris felt every bone in his body trembling with excitement. Pulling away again, this time it was Wesker, Chris stared at his captain, wide-eyed.

"Good work, Chris." The deep hum of Wesker's voice so close to him made Chris shiver in the cool night. "Is that enough of a pat on the head?" Annoyance tickled his stomach, but Chris could see Wesker smirking at him in the dark. Moving away from Chris all together, he went around to the passenger side. Chris slid into the driver's seat, and started the car, hands shaking. 

"So are we just not gonna ta--"

"Drive." Wesker ordered. Staring at Wesker who was unbuckling his bulletproof vest and doing an inventory shot Chris an unreadable glance. "You have a very large amount of work to get done tomorrow. And it's two in the morning." Sighing, Chris threw the car in gear and drove down the alley.

"I just think we should-" but before Chris could finish, a heavy grey van swerved dangerously close to them. "The fuck is-" Swerving, Chris watched and saw a the guy in the passenger seat swung a handgun out of the window.

" _Drive._ " Wesker ordered, and Chris pulled the truck heavily out into traffic, speeding the opposite way. They watched the van fall back, and he quickly sped into side streets, twisting and turning down alleys and avenues until he brought the truck to a stop near a park. Panting, Chris stared at the rear-view window, waiting to see what Wesker would say.

"Parcini." Muttering, Wesker drummed his fingers against the dashboard. "You live near here, yes?" Turning to stare at his captain, Chris nodded slowly. _How the fuck..._ "Good. I have no patience to deal with a shootout in the street. I'm exhausted." _Aren't you the captain of fucking S.T.A.R.S.?_ Chris thought. "Walk home from here, take your weapon but keep it concealed. Stick to side streets as much as you can. I'm going to ditch the car, phone Marini and let him know the situation, and we will head back to the RCPD first thing in the morning." Giving Wesker his exact address and quick directions on how to get there, he slid out of the car as Wesker got out and replaced him behind the wheel, and watched with an enormous throb of confusion as his captain drop away.

_The night that just keeps giving._

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Chris was lying in his bed and the only thing he could think about was his captain, who was staying going to stay with him for the night. The night had been a whirlwind of activity, and the adrenaline of the shootout at the construction site still made his heart race. Despite their fear of Parcini's men finding them, Chris was already feeling uncomfortable with the idea of his captain laying low here , and grappling the knowledge of Wesker's company in his apartment was getting to him. His life seemed to be turning in a direction he wasn’t yet sure he enjoyed, with the combination of the turn in their case and his ever-growing and confusing relationship with Wesker only getting harder to understand.

_The sooner those fucking gangster assholes get apprehended and taken off the fucking streets the better._ The kissing from earlier still burned in his mind, and the fact that it had been so sudden and so close to where so many people were... His heart pounded and his head buzzed when he thought about it. Despite the action his job had provided, what Wesker had done in the alley shoved all other thoughts from his mind as he once again found himself faced with an ever-growing pile of confusion and sexual frustration.

Chris’ arms were folded behind his head and he watched car lights dance across his darkened ceiling. He heard a siren somewhere several blocks away, and the sheer ridiculousness in the idea of Wesker physically being in his apartment swirled around his mind. In all honesty,he'd expected Wesker to go to his own place. _Wherever the fuck he lives._ He was just grateful that Claire wasn't here for her Thanksgiving visit yet.

Chris’ chest rose and fell with creeping exhaustion, and he briefly wondered if _he_ would ever see the inside of Wesker’s place. He pictured a leather furniture filled bachelor pad, with a nice view and fur carpets. He thought sadly of his old furniture and pizza box littered kitchen, and again felt self conscious, wondering what Wesker thought as he inspected his temporary sleeping quarters.

Hearing his front door click, open, and close again, he held his breath suddenly. He ought to have went to bed ages before now, but the idea that Wesker would be sleeping down the hall, alone, in Chris’ apartment with him made his mind race with endless possibilities. Chris was thankful for the relatively quiet night on the streets outside and he propped himself up to listen to Wesker’s movements. Having Wesker moving around inside his apartment was having a much different impact than knowing Wesker was moving around the Alpha common area. 

The footsteps moved through the living room, and from under the line of the bedroom door, the light got a bit dimmer. _He turned off the lights. He’s gonna go to bed._ Chris thought, his heart skipping at a half formed idea of Wesker coming to join him in his bed.

The footsteps moved down the hallway and Chris’s heart rate picked up as they passed his door. _You need to calm down and go to sleep, you wanna be too tired to do your shit tomorrow and end up back doing paperwork?_ Wesker must have slipped off his shoes, because his footsteps became soft as he went into the bathroom. Chris heard the shower turn on, and he sighed. Leaning back against his pillows, he was unsure of what he had been hoping to happen. _When has Wesker ever come into your bedroom? All he’s done is shove you up against a wall and kiss you._ Shivering at the memory, he sighed and rolled over. He knew he should go to sleep, but it just did not seem to come to him. Instead, Chris began thinking of his work on the S.T.A.R.S. team, something that usually made him drift off to thoughts of weapon maintenance. He was half asleep when he heard the door to his room open.

Chris’ eyes snapped open, as the smells of soap and shampoo from the bathroom wafted into his room, before he heard his door close again. _Wesker must’ve looked to see if I was actually in here._ He thought, frowning to himself. It wasn’t something Wesker had done before, why would he start now? Chris was listening hard, but heard nothing. He closed his eyes, and the floor creaked. Chris bolted upright, propping himself up and his eyes landed immediately on Wesker.

Wesker was wearing nothing but the black cotton pants he usually wore with a t-shirt to bed, except he wasn’t wearing the shirt. Chris’ breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t make himself stop staring. Chris was entranced by the way the dim light from the window illuminated his bare chest. Wesker stood, his head to the side, looking at Chris. His usually perfect, slicked back hair was wet, and only partially pushed aside. Random strands fell loose against his forehead, and pushed flat against the side of his head. He had a broad chest, and the muscles that usually pushed against the tight t-shirts were just as solid looking as Chris had remembered from all those evenings in the pool. The way the light illuminated him cast shadows over his body in a way that excited Chris, and the combination of Wesker standing in his bedroom and being so scarcely dressed made that excitement travel right to his groin.

Wesker took several steps towards him, until he stood beside Chris’s bed, studying him all the while. Chris looked up at him, heart and erection pounding in time with each other, and his mind racing with things to say or do. The blonde’s face was unreadable, but he was staring down at Chris as if he were trying to decide what his next move should be. His brows were drawn together, and his eyes moved down Chris’s chest, taking him in. Chris’s heart was pounding, and it was all he could do to stop himself from reaching out and touching Wesker’s skin he was so close to him. _This is a dream. I am dreaming. He isn’t here._ Chris thought to himself.

“Wh-what are…you…” Chris’s voice was quiet, and somehow just hearing his words aloud confirmed that this was real. It felt as if speaking were totally out of the question, but that didn’t matter because Wesker didn’t let Chris finish the question.

Chris’s bed was relatively high off of the ground, so Wesker didn’t have to move very far. Chris knew what he was doing before he had even leaned forward.

Wesker’s kiss was just as surprising as the other ones he’d given Chris, and once again, Chris found himself not knowing what to do. He had wondered over the past month if he would ever figure out what to do. The feeling of another man’s lips against his was one which Chris was still unsure how to react to. The kiss also a struggle for domination, since he had only ever kissed women before, he was used to his partner submitting to his kiss. Wesker fought for this control, making the kiss do what he wanted it to, and Chris letting him.

Wesker held the kiss, and when Chris expected it to end as it had before, he felt Wesker’s tongue pushing against his lips. Chris’s mouth parted unexpectedly, as if it was acting of its own accord and the memories of what happened in his office several weeks before came fluttering back. The feeling of Wesker’s tongue meeting Chris’ own made his heart race. Wesker leaned into the kiss, causing Chris to have to lean back, and his heart went next to crazy when he felt Wesker kneel onto the bed. _Oh my god, oh my fucking god this is really happening. He’s getting in bed with me oh my god._ He couldn’t stop himself any longer, and moved his hands to Wesker’s side. He felt his captain tense, and then push Chris lower down on the bed until his head was resting on the pillow, and Wesker was half-lying, half propped on his elbow up against Chris. Wesker’s tongue was moving inside Chris’s mouth so naturally Chris had a hard time remembering this was something he’d never done with a man before. _At least not before you started working for Wesker. Or_ under _him..._

He felt Wesker’s hand against his stomach, bare fingers snaking up and sliding over his chest. Feeling entirely too aware of his heart slamming in his chest, he thought for sure Wesker would realize how pathetically turned-on Chris was by it. Yet the feeling of his captain’s hand roaming around against his body thrilled him like nothing else had in a long, long time. Another thing Chris had never experienced; Wesker’s touch without his gloves in the way. A shiver ran through Chris’s body, and he felt himself grow, cock throbbing almost painfully in his cotton pajama bottoms. Embarrassment flooded him and he could feel his cheeks burning red. He was grateful for the dark bedroom, and tried to relax. Chris had his hand barely touching the older man’s side, and in a drive of reckless bravery, he moved his own fingers across Wesker’s stomach in response. The muscles he felt made Chris jealous; he was certain his stomach didn’t feel nearly as appealing, and yet, Wesker kept his fingers tracing over him.

Wesker’s hand had traveled across Chris’s stomach, up over his chest and back down to where it started. Chris’s heart nearly flew out of his chest when he felt his captain’s touch against the waistband of his plaid bottoms, pulling the hem aside, and sliding his hand down Chris’ waist. The feeling of Wesker’s fingers wrapping around his cock made Chris jerk his hips so roughly that he dislodged the rest of the tangled sheets from his legs. Gasping, a strange feeling of intense pleasure rolled through him as Wesker began stroking him, leaning down so close to Chris that his breath tickled his neck and he could listen to his steady breathing.

“Is this what you’ve wanted, Chris?” Wesker’s voice was deep with lust, and hearing it made Chris grab a fistful of the sheets. _He’s as into this as you are, and I bet he’s got the hard-on to prove it._ Feeling his captain’s thumb swirl the tip of his cock, Chris let out a moan as Wesker used the precum that had formed as lubrication to aid his slow, calculated strokes. Shifting his weight against Chris, his curiosity about whether or not Wesker felt the same was answered in the feeling of his erection pressed against Chris’ thigh.

“Y-yes...” His voice cracked when he tried to answer, and his throat felt raw and dry. Mind racing, Chris wanted desperately to do anything he could to keep Wesker from stopping; the image of his captain pulling away from him in his office lingering at the front of his head. Sliding his hand up Wesker’s chest again, Chris let it slide down to the waistband and over the front of his pants, feeling Wesker’s own erection pressed tight against the cloth. A deep, low moan from his captain made Chris pulse with excitement in the blonde’s hand.

“How often do you think about this?” The sheer lust in Wesker’s voice was driving Chris insane, especially compared to the slow, calculated way he was jerking Chris off; not enough to bring him to orgasm, but just enough to keep him on the edge.

“Ev-every night.” He breathed, and it had been, especially this past week. All Chris had to do was remember the feeling of his captain’s tongue meeting his, and his mind wandered to every possible outcome of what would happen should Wesker keep going. Eventually Chris had gotten over his denial, and jerked off every night he wasn’t too exhausted thinking almost solely about his deep kisses shared with Wesker. At least, before Wesker had nearly choked him to death.

Unsure of what to do with this own hand, he gave Wesker a tentative, forceful stroke over the tops of his pants, and Wesker’s breath hitched in his throat, his hand around Chris keeping its pace and Chris letting his eyes flutter closed.

Slow, forceful strokes became rougher, faster ones as the blonde picked up his pace. Moaning softly, Chris squeezed Wesker through his pants, before stroking him again, each of these actions earning a dull grunt from him, making Chris throb with the excitement of returning the favor to his captain. When Wesker leaned in slid his tongue into Chris' mouth again, the marksman could no longer even try to think about returning the favor, and instead slid his hands around to his captain's back, moaning into the kiss. _It feels so fucking good, fuck, if he stops I think it'll kill me..._ Chris could feel his orgasm make his body tense up, and he cried out when he came, Wesker's strokes making his body shudder and his hips jerk, until he was totally spent, mind racing and heart pounding. Leaning down, Wesker nipped his neck before going to push himself off the bed.

"D-don't...don't you w-want me to..."

"Not tonight, Redfield." His voice low but not mean, and Chris could hear that the blonde wanted it. But Chris could barely focus on breathing properly, let alone arguing with Wesker. Chris couldn’t speak, only watch as his captain backed away from the bed and walked to the door. When he got to it, he opened it and hesitated in the doorway. All Chris could do was stare at his shadowy outline.

“Sleep in tomorrow, Chris.” Chris just stared, speaking seeming to be too much to handle. Wesker closed the door without so much as a glance backwards, leaving Chris lying in the dark with his heart pounding, breath short and hitched, and his cum sticky and wet on his stomach. Worrying about how late to sleep-in wasn't even a blip on his radar.


	11. Start Me Off, Watch Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker and Chris explore each other a bit more, only after Chris has repaid what he owed his captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to include at least a -little- bit of plot in this chapter. Although the chapters immediately following this one...I make no promises.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Bond Station, this stop." The cool, robotic female voice echoed throughout the near empty subway car, and the doors chimed as they slid open and let in the cold November air. It was Thanksgiving that weekend, and Raccoon City seemed quieter than usual. Despite the explosive evening at the construction site and near car chase that followed it, Parcini and Brenner appeared to be laying low again, most of their usual haunts also quiet. The cool air was cut off by the _snick_ of the subway doors sliding closed, and the dull, ominous grumble of steel moving through the underground resumed. Head swaying slightly, side to side, Chris' eyes shone in a reflection of the dull, cream lighting of the train car which would leave purple spots dancing in his vision when he finally looked away. His mind was a quiet hum from the night of the shoot out, the night where things changed. _Oh, and things have changed._ Except they hadn't, not really. Wesker ordered them all around, they lay low, they gathered their intel, they watched for Parcini, they met every Monday morning to discuss a tactical plan. Where to go, when to be there, who they needed, what they had to do, all exactly the same. What had changed was Chris.

Confusion was still the prominent figure in his mind, his thoughts like a lazy pool, twisting and mixing in the light of his brain. Thoughts of Wesker's tongue playing against his, thoughts of Wesker's hand jerking him off. The steady paced feeling of skin on skin, and the unbelievable sense of release when Wesker had made him come. What confused Chris the most was that no matter how hard he filled his mind with thoughts about it, how much he pretended it was his Captain's hand doing it instead of his, no amount of jerking off in the time since had recreated that feeling of utter bliss that had tagged along with his release.

Hands in his pockets, Chris had his thumb tucked inside his I.D. badge, running it over the cool, bronzed letters on its surface. _S.T.A.R.S._ Each letter's curves spelling out the job he held, and stirred that swirling pool of thoughts just a little bit more. Instead of stressing himself over it, he settled with the confusion and anxiety of what was happening. Wesker wasn't saying anything, and as far as he could tell nobody expected anything. _But enough is e-god-damned-nough._ The resolution in his mind made Chris feel his nerves tremble but he just couldn't do it anymore. _I'm asking him today what the fuck is going on. Demanding it._

"Elcor Station, this stop." Heaving himself off the plastic paneling beside the door, he walked off of the train and took the stairs two at a time until he emerged on the street. A light dusting of snow had fallen that morning, and Chris pulled his jacket collar up around his neck, and watched as his breath made a steamy cloud as he exhaled and shivered. He'd be glad once this lingering threat of Parcini setting a retaliation on the street was removed, and he could drive to work in his newly repaired car. Wesker had informed them that he wanted to take Parcini down before the new year, giving Alpha and Bravo a month to fully shut down the most prominent organized crime group in Raccoon City. _Good fucking luck._ Hoping wistfully that there would be coffee in the common room, Chris let himself in through the wooded back entrance, and down the path in the rear-courtyard to get into the RCPD. Reaching the common room, he swung the door open, yanking his jacket undone and slinging it over his arm. Brad and Joseph sat comparing notes on something at the large table and Barry was, _thank fucking god_ , just finishing brewing a large pot of coffee.

"Mornin'. Coffee?" Barry filled a mug and handed it to Chris, who took a deep, grateful slip.

"Is the Captain in?" Receiving a nod, Chris thanked him and went down to his room to put his coat away and changed into his uniform. _Gotta wait until I get him alone. For obvious reasons._ He thought, creasing his brows together while he did the buttons up his dark olive green shirt. "And don't let him push you around, either." He said quietly to himself, cuffing the sleeves up around his elbows. Striding back down to the common area, he dropped onto the couch and sipped at his coffee, staring at the wall and wondering what exactly he was going to say to Wesker, being jerked out of his head by Jill, who dropped onto the couch beside him."

"You okay there? You've been awfully quiet the past couple weeks." She had a coffee of her own, and she tucked her feet up under her thighs. Chris gave her a half-smile and shrugged.

"Just think about my sister a lot around Thanksgiving." Tipping back half of his remaining coffee, he adjusted his belt buckle. "Hope school's going okay for her."

"She's visiting this weekend, no? You gonna cook her a big dinner?" Giving him a smile and a nudge, he protested and defended his ability to cook. "Well, hey. If you're doing the dinner on the Sunday, bring her out on Saturday! I'd love to meet her. And Barry said he wouldn't mind going out for a little Alpha Family drinking night." Considering, Chris nodded thinking that it sounded right up Claire's alley. Wesker entered the common room from the main door, and tossed a number of reports on the table, making Jill and Chris turn to look. His heart doing that uncomfortable skipping a beat thing it did whenever he saw the blonde, Chris clenched his jaw and hardened his resolve to have _the talk_ with Wesker.

"Enrico has told me that Bravo's setting up a wiretap by the docks where Parcini's been hiding this week." He looked around and surveyed them, dressed fully in his captain's uniform. "He said that he'd be letting me know by this afternoon at the latest whether or not the tap was successful. If it is, then what we need to do is focus our attention there. And plan when we make our move." Turning and leaving them, Wesker headed straight for his office and Chris' heart leapt. _Do it now. Do it while he's in there and everyone else is out here. No yelling or beating me or kicking me on my ass while everyone can hear. And no...no anything else either._ Shoving himself off the couch, he chugged down the rest of his coffee and told Jill he'd be back in a moment.

"I just need to uh, go over something. About Parcini." He replied to Jill's inquiry, and she nodded and headed over to the table to sort out the documents with the other three Alpha members. Adjusting his sleeves and wondering briefly if this was a good idea, he tapped lightly on Wesker's door before he could chicken out. _Just fucking get it over with._ A brief idea of what his hair looked like hovered through his mind, and he couldn't think past how incredibly _stupid_ that thought was.

"Come in." Sucking in a quiet breath, Chris opened the door and slid inside.

"Do you have a sec? Sir?" Wesker was still hanging his jacket up, and turned to give Chris a steady stare. He gave him a nod, and Chris slipped inside of the door, heart pounding as he closed it quietly. Standing with his hands clenched over the doorknob, he took a shaky breath. "What the hell is going on?" _Tactical. Very concise, good job._ Wesker stood, staring at him expressionless, before turning to finish putting his jacket on the hook.

"You knocked and I let you in. Which part is confusing you?" Clenching his fists together, he didn't need Wesker to turn around to know he was smirking at him. Taking a few steps into the office, he took a breath. _Just be fucking calm, okay?_

"The part where one second you're...you're shoving your tongue in my mouth, and the next you're treating me like some no-good rookie on his first day." Chris waited, holding his breath. It was damn risky talking to Wesker that way, but when his captain turned around that smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"If memory serves, I'd say I did a bit more than that." Taking a few slow steps towards Chris, he gulped to himself. That tone was one that could go either way for him. Despite his intimidation, and the dull blush that crept into his cheeks, he didn't back off.

"Cut the bullshit, you know what I mean." With that, Wesker's smirk disappeared and anger replaced his pompous attitude. Advancing on Chris, Wesker glared at him.

"Watch who you're addressing, Redfield." The tone shifting from the former to the one filled with cold hostility. Taking a hesitant step backwards, Chris felt the indignation begin to slip, and felt an uneasy shift in his mind realizing that maybe confronting Wesker was not going to turn out the way he wanted. Feeling the ghost of the wall behind him, Chris was _not_ going to just give up.

"I...sorry. _Sir._ " Chris atoned, realizing he'd get nowhere by blatantly attacking his captain. Wesker was studying him with those cold, grey eyes of his and Chris creased his brow together. The agitation of his features slowly dissolved back into his usual expression.

"Is it bothering you, Chris?" The words almost teasing, and Chris felt his resolve wavering. Giving Wesker a sort of half nod, he let his eyes flicker to his captain's mouth, before moving back up to his eyes. _No, no no no, no. You're figuring out what exactly this is and why it's happening._

"I just wanna know...what it...means.

He finished lamely. Chris couldn't help but notice the way Wesker's eyes were studying over his features, how he hadn't moved away from the closeness, although the intimidation from it had faded but not gone. Reaching out slowly, Wesker tugged down the edge of Chris' collar and letting his eyes run across the fit of the shirt across the marksman's chest. Watching as Wesker did this, Chris felt a different sort of intimidation. Wesker's eyes flicked but upwards to meet Chris', his fingers running along the first few buttons of the green shirt, tracing over the S.T.A.R.S. letters on the breast pocket.

"It doesn't _mean_ anything, Chris." Wesker's hand continued its wandering path down his chest, fingers dancing over the button of the black cargo pants Chris wore, and the younger man immediately felt a dull shiver of excitement that went...well, where it always went. Wesker so close Chris could smell that enticing aroma of his cologne, see the way the shirt fit him perfectly, tight across the shoulders, well filled out by his biceps. Moving his hand downward, the blonde made the palm of his hand grind against Chris, making his semi immediately shoot into a full hard-on.

"But I...I've never..." His voice barely above a hoarse whisper, and he was trying to work it all out. _It doesn't mean anything...but..._

"If you want _this_ to stop,then all you have to do is say so." Wesker emphasized what he was referring to by giving Chris' cock a squeeze through his pants, making him groan quietly, leaning back and pressing his hands flat against the wall. "You can go back to being the cocky, hardheaded marksman with an inflated ego, and I can go back to pretending I don't see you getting a hard-on any time you see me in the pool. Or..." Undoing the button of Chris' pants and slipping his hand inside, he gave Chris a hard stroke making him stifle a moan, Wesker's eyes burning into his. "...you can stop questioning everything and let this happen."

Unable to stop himself, Chris lean forward and pressed his lips to his captain's, and pressing his tongue into his mouth. Wesker hummed at this, leaning into Chris and pinning him against the wall. Yanking his pants and boxer-briefs down, Wesker pulled Chris' erection free, breaking away from the kiss to let his eyes wander down to look at Chris, giving him the same long strokes he had that night in his bedroom. A heat rose to Chris' cheeks, both at being fully exposed like this in front of another man for the first time, and having that man be _Wesker_. Digging his fingers into the waistband of Wesker's pants, he nibbled his lip as Wesker slowly jerked him off.

"Go ahead," he permitted quietly, and Chris didn't need to ask what he meant. His eyes met Wesker's and the gaze he met was sparkling with anticipation, and it made Chris throb with need. Darting his eyes to the door just to their left, he thought anxiously of his teammates and friends just down the hallway. Wesker leaned in and kissed his neck, sucking the skin and making Chris knot his fingers over the waistband.

"Wh-what if....what if they..." Panting, he sucked in a breath as Wesker gave a slow, firm tug and slid his thumb in a circular motion around the head of his throbbing erection.

"So keep your moaning quiet then." Wesker purred in his ear. "Now, _go ahead_." With trembling fingers, Chris fumbled the button open and slid the zipper of his captain's pants down, hesitating before sliding his hand inside. Heart beating wildly, he wrapped his hand around Wesker's cock and _motherfucking asshole, of COURSE he's fucking bigger than me_. Wesker's stroking of Chris paused, and he chuckled against his neck. "Now take it out, and do what you do to yourself when you think of me."

Shivering in anticipation, Chris used his free hand to tug down the waist of Wesker's navy blue pants and boxer briefs, giving him a tentative stroke and letting his eyes wander down to look at Wesker. _Even his fucking cock is perfect._ Chris thought with mild jealousy. Dragging his tongue in a way that made Chris tremble against the wall, Wesker nipped at his earlobe. Trying to get his movements under control while dealing with so many different sensations all happening at once, Chris gave Wesker's dick a long, firm stroke and Wesker _moaned_. Cock pulsing in Wesker's hand, Chris was struggling to focus on sliding his hand against Wesker's while trying to hold back the loud ridiculous moan he _really_ wanted to let out.

Figuring out a rhythm, Chris jerked Wesker off, both men breathing heavily against each other and leaning up against the wall. It was a weird sensation for Chris, doing the motions of jerking off but on someone else, while _feeling_ the motions of _being_ jerked off from someone else. Heart pounding, Chris rubbed his thumb tentatively over the head of Wesker's erection, and the way his captain tightened his grip on Chris made the brunette gasp.

" _Harder._ " His captain's voice low and commanding in his ear, Chris did as he was told and picked up the pace with which he stroked Wesker. On impulse, as his hand moved to the base of his cock, Chris gave him a squeeze before stroking upwards again and _fuck_ if that didn't make Wesker shudder against him. Getting him off so much thrilled Chris, and he felt himself throbbing achingly in Wesker's hand, wanting more and more, craving that delicious feeling of release again. The office was filled with nothing except the muted sounds of their movements, and breathing and kissing as Wesker continue to bite and suck random parts of Chris' neck. Their breathing was so loud Chris felt almost certain that somebody, _anybody_ out there would know exactly what they were doing.

Stroking more firmly, squeezing as he did so, he felt Wesker's hand move to his balls and give them a squeeze that made Chris jerk into him. When he did this Wesker used his free hand to hold Chris hard against the wall and he jerked his hips into Chris' hand, almost _growling_ in Chris' ear as he did. Bucking his own hips in response to his captain, Wesker continued to thrust his hips into Chris' hand, the low command to _keep going_ and of course Chris obeyed, jerking his captain off, squeezing at the right moments to elicit those moans from him again. A moment more of the intense thrusting went by, and then Wesker's grip around Chris went tighter than it had been, and the groan he let out was the best Chris had gotten from him yet.

Chris felt something hot and sticky on his hand, and blushed hard when he realized Wesker had come. The way his captain's body shuddered against him matched the pulsing of his cock in Chris' hand. The steady jerking and squeezing of Chris' hard-on had stopped, and Wesker slowly let his hand drop away. Shivering with need, Chris stood in mild confusion as his captain nipped his neck. Panting, Wesker chuckled a bit and pulled away from Chris, trailing his nose along Chris' jawline as he tucked himself back into his pants, adjusting his uniform.

"You'd better clean up and join the rest of the team. They'll be wondering what happened to you." At this, Chris felt his eyes widen in confusion and disbelief. _No. No no no he can't do that, he just....he..._

"B-but...but you, but I haven't..." But even as Chris went to protest, he knew that was it. That was all he was getting.

"No, you haven't. You owed me, and now we're even." Pulling away from Chris, adjusting himself one last time before turning to open the door, he turned to give Chris that awful grin of superiority. "Now, do as you're told and clean yourself up. And Chris, don't even _think_ about finishing yourself off. You have one minute before I come back and get you myself." Opening the door and leaving it open, Chris hastily tucked his still throbbing, dripping cock back into his pants, wincing as he did so. Shuffling to Wesker's desk, he couldn't find any tissues so settled for wiping off his hand with a blank sheet of paper. His heart and boner beating in tune to each other, he blushed and tried to think of something, _anything_ , that would get rid of the evidence before joining the rest of Alpha. Dizzily, he turned and took several steadying breaths, adjusting his hair and his shirt. 

By the time Chris had made his way to the work room to join the rest of Alpha, he'd gotten himself down to a semi, and adjusted his pants in a way that he hoped didn't make it too obvious. Seeing that everyone was doing their own work, Chris practically ran to the computer desk he frequented and slid into his chair. Still attempting to wrap his mind around everything that happened, he glanced around and saw that nobody really looked up at his arrival, except Wesker who stood listening to something Jill was telling him and smirking over in Chris' direction. Shooting his captain an irritated look, Chris yanked the Parcini file free from his stack of reports and began flipping through it.

Several hours went by of discussing various aspects of the case, the new leads they had, the benefit a wire tap from Bravo could give them. The only thing that made this different from every other day was that Wesker was present, and sitting amongst them. He, of course, took over the large desk by the window and had the largest assortment of papers in front of him. Around four that afternoon, Marini came to their office and discussed the plans with Wesker. Rising and gathering the attention of Alpha once Enrico left, Wesker informed them the wire-tap had been successful, and that starting Monday surveillance would become 24/7, Bravo and Alpha switching out.

Thinking of his long weekend, and of Claire's visit, Chris jumped at the time wondering when she was going to appear at his house. Dismissing them for the weekend, Chris rummaged through all of his things in his room and tossed a bag together. Jogging back down to the common room, Barry intercepted him.

"Hey, Chris,still meeting for drinks tomorrow night at the pub?" Nodding, Barry clapped him on the back. "Also, if you and Claire want, you have a spot at our dinner table for Thanksgiving on Sunday evening."

"O-Oh, jeeze, Barry, I couldn't-"

"Kathy would murder me if she knew I let you and your sister eat frozen green beans for Thanksgiving." Barry insisted with a grin. Smiling and giving Barry a rough pat on the shoulder, Chris slung his belongings over his shoulder and left for the weekend to meet Claire.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanksgiving was a comfortable weekend spent half with the gang of Alpha sitting in the Raccoon Pub, and half sitting first around a large warm table eating delicious food, and then sitting in front of a fire place laughing about the past. Claire got along wonderfully with all of Alpha, minus Wesker who of course did not join in the drinking, and teased Chris endlessly once she saw how pretty Jill was. Claire was also not oblivious to Chris' slightly distracted attention all weekend, and bugged him endlessly until he finally made up a lie and said he was just confused about some girl he'd been seeing. Swearing her to secrecy by sneaking her drinks all night at the pub and tipping some of his rum into her Coke, Claire eventually stopped asking and instead started inquiring after what kind of casework Alpha had been working on.

Everyone seemed fascinated by Claire's bike and her interest in pharmaceutical law. She laughed and jokingly said it was just so she could have access to all of the good drug dealers, which sent Barry into a fit of laughter ending in snorting. Claire and Jill sat and gabbed for a while, and Chris didn't know that either of them had such an avid interest in movies and shows. Their evening at the pub, and continued chugging of beer at Chris' apartment resulted in both of them being properly hungover at Thanksgiving dinner, and Barry provided all three of them with strong coffee and slices of homemade bread to help cure their headaches and nausea. Stuffed and happy, Chris let the weekend slide into the rest of the week, just as November slid into December with the only change being a dusty layering of snow over the ground one morning. Claire lingered in his apartment a few extra days since her classes had been cancelled after a snow storm, which she had been thrilled to hear after a phone call with her room-mate. The wire tap turned out to be much more work than any of S.T.A.R.S. had anticipated, however.

Both Bravo and Alpha had gathered together in one of the large boardrooms on the main floor of the RCPD and had been spending all of their waking time in there. Wesker and Marini were constantly pouring over the audio files and fact checking each location and person mentioned through the wire tap, occasionally giving a list of tasks to be looked up or followed-up with to a few members of S.T.A.R.S. Since the wire tap required captain supervision at all times, it was up the to marksman of each team to take over patrols and outings, which meant Chris suddenly gained a bit more authority.

The orders Wesker gave Chris were the only interaction the two had, and Chris didn't expect anything else, at least not while everyone was around everyone else so much. Mostly the outings involved taking a couple of members of the team to various locations they overheard in the wiretap to verify validity, or if they were just fake-outs. Most ended up being legitimate, which meant Chris had to write up a report of investigation for each new location and update it as information became available. Normally that would involve discussing it all with Wesker, but since the tap was providing such useful data, he ended up delegating with Marini most of time, learning in the process how incredibly lucky Bravo was and how relaxed a captain could be. What Chris did enjoy was the fact the when he did speak to Wesker about what he was doing, he'd received only nods and validation that he was doing good work which for Wesker was a minor miracle.

Chris had also become so busy with this wire tap business that he fell in bed exhausted every night, and hadn't jerked off in almost a week. _And you haven't_ been _jerked off for longer than that._ A needy hum of warmth went through his body any time he let himself think about it, and mused over his situation one snowy afternoon as he sat wrapped in a blue S.T.A.R.S. hoodie, writing a report about a closed-down gas station being used for weapon storage. _Congrats, Redfield, you've gone from being desperately confused about your sex life, to desperately confused about what Wesker wanted, to being flat out desperate to get with your captain again._ Laughing at how ridiculous it all was, his eyes felt heavy and he had to take a smoking walk-break to the coffee shop. Jill tagged along and grew excited when she saw that the city workers were putting up Christmas wreaths.

"Wasn't it just Thanksgiving? The fuck is this?" Giving him a playful nudge, Jill laughed again.

"Are you a Grinch, Mr. Redfield? I'm surprised it's taken this long to see any Christmas decorations being set up. The grocery store on Brink Street has had trees for sale for a week." Rolling his eyes, he and Jill made it through another paper filled afternoon, and despite his afternoon coffee Chris began dozing off around seven after sharing a pizza with Brad and Joseph. Resting his hand on his chin, his eyes started drooping, and before he knew it his arms had slipped down, crossed across the table and his face was half buried in them, snoring softly to himself. _Too...tired....and horny...and...did I mention tired...?_ The thoughts were turning into dreams, of Chris running around in circles outside trying to find a taxi, and he felt a squeeze on his arm.

"Mmmf, I don't wanmf, taxi..." He mumbled, barely audibly. But the grip around his arm didn't relent, it shook him, this time accompanied by his name. The voice jolted right into his dream, and he twitched into wakefulness.

"Go to bed, Redfield." Wesker removed his grip from around Chris' arm, but stayed near him. Looking around with bleary eyes, he saw that most of the lights were off and only Jill sat up with Enrico, going over papers for the next day. Now that he had been woken up, Chris wasn't tired. _Jesus, it's almost eleven, you've been napping for four hours._ Flushing, he said a hasty apology to Wesker.

"Sorry, sir. I'll just uh, I'll just finish up these reports and head to my room." Stretching, he expected Wesker to leave him be, but Wesker shook his head and chuckled at him beneath his breath.

"I didn't say go to _your_ bed." Whipping his head around to meet Wesker's low gaze, his eyes shot over to Jill and Enrico, but the blonde had spoken too low for either of them to hear. His heart speeding up from it's lazy, napping rhythm, Chris turned back to face his captain.

"I...but," Clearing his throat, Chris struggled to keep his voice low. _And don't act so fucking excited._ " _Here_?! While...while everyone else is, y'know around?" _As if that stopped him before._

"So don't let anyone see you. " Wesker retorted. "And brush your teeth."

Blushing slightly, Chris shuffled his papers back together, and Wesker went over to speak with Enrico. Jill waved a goodnight to him, and Chris nodded back before turning and making his way down to his room to gather his things. Toothbrush, face scrub, his plaid pajama bottoms and plain black t-shirt all stuffed under his arm as he darted back to the bathroom. Grateful he had taken a shower that morning, he brushed his teeth, spit, and brushed them again all the while his heart racing and his cock beginning to stir at curious thoughts about what they were gong to do. Scrubbing his face next, he yanked off his clothes and pulled his pajamas on, gathering all his things together and going back down to his room, opening his door and practically throwing everything on the floor. Turning off his light and pulling his door shut, he looked nervously down the hallway at the common room still lit up.

Taking a shaky breath, he tried Wesker's door handle and let himself in, sliding himself in and closing the door behind him. Glancing around his captain's room, he found it as immaculate as his office. Overall it was exactly the same as Chris' room, just bigger. And with a half bathroom. _Of course he has his own bathroom, why should the captains have to piss where the rest of us do._ Wesker stood at his set of drawers, unbuttoning his navy blue Captain's shirt. Throwing Chris a look over his shoulder, he nudged in the direction of the bed with his elbow.

Moving over to lie down, Chris yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the ground. _Won't you feel stupid if he just wanted to talk about..._ Feeling the bed sink down behind him, he leaned back against the pillows to see Wesker kneeling on the bed, clad in only his black boxer briefs and watching Chris. _...okay, nevermind._

"You've done well this week." He mused, almost as if he were making an observation to himself rather than pay Chris a compliment. Letting a small grin tug the corner of his mouth, Chris thanked him, subconsciously playing with the knot in the drawstring of his pants. Sliding down the bed to half-lay, half-sit beside Chris, he let his eyes travel obviously over Chris' bare torso and made him squirm uncomfortably against the pillows. "You could, however, gain some muscle." His eyes darting back up to meet Chris, the marksman huffed his chest out.

"You haven't seemed to mind." He quipped, making Wesker chuckle, sliding his fingers to the knot Chris had been playing with and giving it a tug, pulling it apart easily. Feeling that familiar tingle come back, Chris hadn't really considered how much he had wanted this again. Letting his own eyes wander over Wesker's torso, he appreciated the way the bedside lamp illuminated the sharp angle of his jaw, and the broadness of his chest and shoulders. _He really is...well, hot._ Chris blushed and reached out to trail his fingers tentatively along Wesker's forearm. His superior's eyes watched as he did this, while his hand tugged the drawstrings looser, letting his fingers brush flat against Chris' arousal.

In a sudden movement, Wesker had moved his mouth to his and shifted his weight so that Chris could feel the warmth of skin pressed on skin as their bodies touched. Inhaling sharply into the kiss, he let Wesker slide his tongue against his and slid his hand between his captain's thighs, feeling a thrill of his own excitement at just how hard Wesker had gotten. Yanking Chris' pajama bottoms and boxers off, he tossed them aside and began stroking Chris who let his head fall back against the pillows, reveling in how badly he had wanted to feel this again. Tugging nervously at Wesker's sole clothing item, the blonde broke away from Chris to toss them to the floor and pulled the thinner sheet of the bed over their tangled legs. Sliding his arms around Wesker, he pulled him closer and kissed him again, letting out a small gasp as Wesker continue the strokes, and made his erection grind against the brunette's thigh.

Chris let out a very un-manly whimper as Wesker's hand suddenly broke its contact, the blissful friction of skin on skin ceasing. The blonde grabbed the younger man's arms by his wrists and shoved them against the pillows on either side of Chris' head. Flustered by the sudden change, he squirmed under Wesker, desperately wanting more, wanting Wesker's mouth on his again, his hand around his cock. Eyes meeting Wesker's, he found his captain studying his face, utterly amused at how desperate Chris was for him to keep going. It made a throb of excitement run through the older man to hear his moaning, but it frustrated Chris to no end. _Can't I just have one uninterrupted moment of pleasure?_

"Mmmmrr," Chris vocalized his annoyance, wriggling upwards against Wesker, trying to grind his hips against him.

"If you want more, you'll have to beg for it." The blonde murmured, his voice husky and deep. Chris could tell he wanted to continue just as badly, the wanting obvious in his tone, but he also knew his Captain would draw it out; teasing him, making him go crazy. Chris had never been one to beg before, and he silently refused. Groaning, he moved his hips upwards, moving his head to try and kiss him but his captain pulled away and tightened his grip around his wrists.

"Wesker..." Chris groaned impatiently, his eyebrows creasing together again as he looked up at the older man. The waiting was beginning to get to him and he wanted Wesker so badly it hurt. He frowned, attempting to break free but was again unsuccessful.

"I said _beg_ for it, Chris." He leaned in close to Chris and buried his face in his neck, biting the skin and making Chris gasp. A release from one of his wrists told Chris that Wesker had let go, and he felt his captain's hand ghost over him, fingers teasing him, moving down his chest and trailing between his legs. Feeling the heat from Wesker's hand made his cock twitch in anticipation, but Wesker didn't give.

"C'mon..." Chris consented, sighing in anticipation. "Please..."

"Please what?" Wesker's voice was a low whisper now. With every intention of drawing this out, he traced his fingers around the length of his marksman's erection, making Chris respond with an involuntary jerk of his hips. A shiver went through the soldier's body and he couldn't stop the soft moan from escaping his lips.

"P-please...I just...unnnf..." His eyes closed and his head fell back against the pillows as Wesker gave another teasing stroke, his thumb barely passing over the swollen head. "I...I just want..."

"What, Chris?" Wesker's voice barely audible, his warm breath tickling Chris' chest. "What do you want?"

"You." Chris gasped as Wesker's grip tightened around his cock, a fresh drop of precum joining the already dripping tip. "Just you." Resuming the crushing kiss form earlier, Wesker's hand stroked Chris firmly, and his position over him allowed him to grind their hips together, aching cocks rubbing against one another and making both men shudder. Chris reached between them and stroked Wesker, feeling how wet he was from the mixture of their precum making them slick. Finding the stroking pattern from before, deep strokes and a squeeze at the base, Chris didn't have time to register it was the first time his cock had ever touched another man's, all he knew was that he liked that feeling; _wanted_ that feeling, and that feeling it while they jerked each other off was so much better than being pressed against a wall.

Jerking his hips into Wesker's and following the motion, it wasn't long before Chris knotted his free hand into the sheets and let out a stifled moan of pleasure as his orgasm shook his body. Closing his eyes and letting his body ride the wave of pleasure, he realized that Wesker must have finished too, because after a moment Wesker's body went slack, and both of their hands and stomachs were covered with hot, sticky liquid. Rolling off him, Wesker reached over and grabbed the tissue box off the table, dropping it onto the bed between them and cleaning himself hastily off. Chris did the same, tossing the used tissue into the waste basket and letting himself collapse against the pillows, catching his breath and letting the post-orgasm bliss finish settling off his body.

"I won't be satisfied with this for much longer, Redfield." Opening his eyes and looking over at Wesker, he saw his captain lying on his side, one hand propping his head up, the other moving to his torso, languidly tracing a finger along Chris' collarbone. Gulping slightly, Chris nervously took in everything that implied but liking the slow stroke of his fingers across his skin.

"Well," his voice hoarse, he coughed a little before continuing. "I uh, I mean I've never...I haven't, uh..." Stammering and feeling the familiar hot blush creep into his cheeks, Wesker only chuckling and silenced him by slipping his tongue into the brunette's mouth, savoring the way Chris sighed against him. When he pulled away, his eyes lingered on the marksman's a bit longer.

"You're a quick learner, Redfield. Why do you think I made you pointman?" Frowning, the words struck a familiar chord in his mind and Chris had a very brief inner debate about what he should say.

"I'm pretty sure you already made me answer that." Bracing himself for a harsh reaction, he was pleasantly surprised by Wesker giving a quiet laugh.

"So I have, Chris." Eyes still lingering, he suddenly rolled completely off of him and onto his opposite side, adjusting his pillow. "Go back to your room, Redfield. Unless you'd like to risk someone seeing you coming out of mine in the morning." Reluctantly, Chris heaved himself out of the warm bed, tugged his pants back on and gathered up his shirt and boxers. Going to the door, he bid goodnight to Wesker over his shoulder, checked cautiously down the hallway, and darted back into his room.

Lying in bed, sleepy and satisfied, Chris smiled to himself. _I think that's the nicest he's ever been to me. Maybe this whole thing...whatever the hell it is, isn't so bad after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor, naive Chris. He just has no idea how bad things can get.
> 
> Also I'm tryyyyyyying not to just let myself write like ten chapters of porn with no plot. Trying.


	12. Can't Stop Now, It's Already Begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris sleeps over at Wesker's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allllllllright! I know there was a slight delay between this chapter and the last, but I think it's worth it. Incredibly minimal plot at all, but hey, I tried to give a cute little Christmas Eve at the end, right? This is an entirely shameless smut chapter that I really, really, really enjoyed writing. Enjoy this, I need to wrap up this Parcini crap next chapter...I mean er, briefly return to the plot I've set up. Still not THE chapter you're all waiting for, but hey, we're certainly well on our way to it.
> 
> Also, a brief side note, Wesker's house on this chapter is basically my uncle's old place, right down to the minimalistic furniture. (because let's face it, Wesker doesn't give a crap about interior decoration, as long as it looks dark and mysterious)

Snow was drifting down, coating the streets with a layer of white powder. One in the morning made for a quiet scene, the only people moving around were the cluster of men standing in an open loading bay on the Raccoon City Dock. Down a narrow alley and parked on the street a block over, Chris and Wesker sat in the front of a large black truck watching the movements of the group of men on the dock. Chris was holding a pair of binoculars, waiting for the drug deal to happen while Wesker sat with papers scattered over the dashboard and his lap, brows drawn together and peering down the alleyway. Somewhere three blocks away, Jill, Barry and Joseph were closer, watching with the cameras while Brad sat back in the communications room of RCPD talking to them over the radio and ensuring everything was documented. If all went well, this would be the night that they got the proof they needed to take Parcini and his crew down for good. It just also happened to be Christmas Eve. _Well, the early-ass morning of Christmas Eve...day._ Chris scrunched his nose at the thought, trying to figure out exactly what that meant. 

"Keep an eye on Parcini." Wesker said quietly, and Chris nodded against the binoculars, trained on the mobster he'd grown so familiar with over the past several months. Wesker radioed to the rest of Alpha their instructions, and Chris let his mind wander as Parcini had just settled in to count a crate of bags. Despite his mild daydreaming every now and then, Chris had found himself able to focus on work much better ever since he'd settled with what was happening with Wesker. Despite the ambiguity with what exactly they were, Chris had to admit he was quite happy with how things had been going. Wesker pulled him aside every chance he got, even if it was just for thirty seconds of making out and grinding against him over their uniforms in his office. Chris hadn't been invited back into Wesker's bedroom, nor had Wesker expanded on his comment that he wasn't going to be satisfied with what they were doing forever. (Now _that_ was one thought that got Chris into a nervous fit of daydreaming scenarios.) For the time being since then, Chris figured Wesker hadn't become unsatisfied yet, since he seemed to enjoy every encounter, including the one several days before where Chris had dared himself to kiss Wesker while looking at a map by their truck in an empty parking lot. Although he'd expected Wesker to shove him away and tell him to cut it out, as Wesker _also_ did very frequently, his captain had instead grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and swung him back and up against the truck, sliding their tongues together and pushing his hips flush against Chris's. Thinking about that now, Chris let a small grin play across his features as he remembered the look Wesker had given him after that...

" _Redfield._ " Snapping out of his thoughts, Chris turned to look at Wesker who was giving Chris an exasperated look. Blushing, Chris put the binoculars down and muttered an apology to Wesker who shook his head. "I said, did he take any of those bags and keep them out?" Turning back to the binoculars, Chris watched Parcini talking with Volicki and Brenner, pointing at various crates and nodding.

"No, sir. Just counted them." Following the movement of the men, he heard Wesker ask Jill something over the radio. Nibbling his lip as he watched the men handing each other large, thick envelopes and Chris sat up straighter. "There's the money swap."

"And Valentine has confirmed that Vickers got verbal affirmation from all three on tape that the deal out is going to Chicago and New York on a ship on the 28th." Wesker turned to face Chris, who looked back at him with a smirk. "Got them. Keep watching, look for any further merchandise, keep an eye for any of them taking packages from the rest, that sort of thing." Nodding, Chris didn't hear what Wesker said as he heard the static of the radio but instead watched the men moving along. Parcini and Volicki stayed near the barrels of packaged drugs, and kept talking. Jealous of Brad for being able to actually hear everything that was being said, Chris was at least grateful that he and Wesker were in the car with the heat running. They'd sat with it off for almost an hour, but Chris had been too cold, and even Wesker eventually consented into turning the heat on low. _28th huh. So that's when it's going down, that's when all of this ends with them._ Chris thought to himself, hearing the dull chatter of Barry talking to Wesker over the radio beside him. Shifting his weight, Wesker asked if Chris had seen anything more, and he shook his head, watching as several of the men began pulling into cars.

"Pack up and head home for the evening." Pausing and listening to confirmation over the radio, Wesker studied Chris with an unreadable expression on his face, and Chris began packing the binocular and papers from the dash up. "Don't worry about a meeting with Alpha until noon tomorrow. After that, you'll all be dismissed until the 26th." A happy laugh came from over the radio and Jill's voice said she'd see everyone tomorrow. Placing the radio back on the console, Wesker gathered the documents together and handed them to Chris to put away before putting the truck into gear. Organizing the documents, Chris watched Wesker as he pulled the truck out onto the street. "You and I have one more order of business to take care of."

Frowning slightly, Chris asked what it was but only received a shake of the head from Wesker who began driving out into the snowy night. Sighing and looking out his window, Chris thought of having a long, hot shower when he got back before tucking himself into bed. _Maybe Wesker could join me in the shower..._ Feeling a dull heat rise in his cheeks, he grinned to himself as he stared blankly out the window. Letting his mind to drift to the old fantasy of Wesker in the swimming pool, then in the shower, then with Chris, he didn't realize they'd come to a stop until the engine died, and the comforting warmth from the car vents went out. Jolting back to alertness, Chris looked from the silent heaters, to Wesker, to the window again. Beyond his window, he saw a dark street, with a decent-sized, one-level house sitting back against a number of trees. Behind that, he saw the dim lights of Raccoon City and realized they'd driven north instead of south to the police department, and up probably into the higher-end area of residential houses.

"A house? Who lives here? Is it Parcini's?" Turning to squint out of the window again, Wesker pulled the keys from the ignition and putting them in his jacket pocket, pulling out another, smaller key ring. Gathering the folders off of the console between them, he leaned forward and shoved them under the seat. Chris turned to watch him, confusion in his mind. "What..."

"I do, Chris." Turning to meet Chris's eyes, the younger man blinked in confusion.

"You...but I thought we...but..."

"You can come inside. Or you can take yourself home." Placing a hand on the door handle, and swinging it open, Wesker regarded Chris with another unreadable look. "Your choice."

Staring wide-eyed as Wesker got out and shut the door behind him, Chris turned back to look up at the house, heart pounding in his chest. _Wesker's house...now here's a place I never thought I'd be._ Realizing why it probably was that Wesker had brought him back here made a wild shiver run through his body that had nothing to do with the cold winter air. He saw Wesker walking up the pathway, not looking back at the truck and Chris nibbled his lip anxiously. _Of course you're gonna fucking go up there...of course..._ Taking a shaky breath, Chris had a fleeting moment of hesitation. _You go in there and you're taking this to the next level. You go in there and he's not just gonna jerk you off with his tongue in your mouth._ Making his choice, Chris leapt out of the car, slamming the locks down, and closing the door. Through the fog of his breath, Chris glanced both ways up the street as he jogged up the pathway after Wesker. The houses in the area were widely spread, and apart from another parked car a little way down, all Chris saw were trees, lawns and snow. Turning back, he studied the house in front of him. A one-level, yes, but long, stretching widely across the snow-covered lawn. There were no lights on, only a dim glow from somewhere behind one of the windows. He reached the door just as Wesker was swinging it open, and he stood aside allowing Chris to go in.

"Give me your coat." Wesker ordered, and Chris yanked it off, handing it to his captain and proceeding to yank the laces undone on his snow covered boots. Flicking a switch and taking his coat, Chris's eyes grew wide again as the room became illuminated. The layout was wide, and open concept. Standing in a small entry way, the room opened up into a large sitting room that you had to take a step down to get to. A large, comfortable looking black leather couch was there, along with some plain furniture and a big TV. Across from that on the opposite side of the room was a long table and half a dozen chairs seated around it, the wood a dark, smooth polish. To his left, taking up almost the whole left corner was the kitchen, done in black, and stainless steel. Everything was so tidy that if Chris didn't know Wesker lived here, he'd have thought it was a show-house.

Taking a few tentative steps into the house, he spotted a few closed doors on the same wall as the front door, and a long hallway stretching down to the right with several more doors. Hearing footsteps behind him, Chris turned to look at Wesker who was studying Chris closely.

"So...no other order of business to take care of." Chuckling softly at him, Wesker reached to undo the utility vest Chris still wore. Noticing that Wesker had already removed his vest and gun holster, he stood only with his blue captain's shirt and black cargo pants. Feeling his heart skip a beat, he realized that besides that evening in his apartment what felt like ages ago, he had never been alone with Wesker somewhere they had no time limit, and no threat of interruption. _And no immediate requirement to be as quiet as possible._

"I wouldn't quite say that, Chris." Pulling his utility vest off, Chris shrugged free of it and watched as Wesker draped it over the back of the couch. His heart going crazy now, Chris watched every movement his captain made, never breaking eye-contact. _I wanted a shower, I don't have a change of clothes, I don't have my toothbrush..._ All of these thoughts hovering just above the haze that was taking over his ability to think clearly.

"And uh," Chris cleared his throat as Wesker began unbuckling the weapon holster Chris wore. "What uh, what are you going to tell the others if they ask where we went?"

"A lie." Wesker replied with a slight shrug, pulling the belt free and draping it on top of the vest, leaving Chris dressed in the dark green S.T.A.R.S. sweater and cargo pants. Swallowing hard, Chris stared at Wesker, wanted desperately to kiss him, to touch him... He reached out and touched Wesker's chest, watching as his captain took a step closer to him. His voice was the low, quiet tone that always drove shivers up Chris's spine. "Alone at last, hm?"

"Yeah. Uh..." Chris's voice was hoarse as Wesker moved closer, grabbing a fistful of his sweater on either side and tugging their mouths together. Chris moved his hand from its place on Wesker's chest and began fumbling with the buttons of the shirt. Stepping forward, Wesker pushed Chris backward, grabbing his hand from where it had begun undoing the buttons and breaking apart, turning and pulling Chris along behind him. Heart racing, Chris watched as several closed doors went by as he was led down the dark hallway. Shoving Chris through the open door at the end, he let go of his hand and flicked a switch on the wall that filled the room with a dull light from several lights positioned throughout the room.

Having enough of a moment to glance around, Chris took in the polished dark wood floors, the same dark, minimalist furniture, and a large comfortable looking bed against the opposite wall made up with dark grey blankets and pillows. A door stood open on the left wall, and it only just registered as the master bathroom before he felt Wesker's hand on his wrist, turning to face him again. Resuming the kiss, Wesker yanked Chris's sweater up and off, tossing it aside, leaving Chris in the plain white shirt he wore under, his erection growing hard and fast in his pants. Chris shakily resumed pulling the buttons of Wesker's shirt free while Wesker tugged the shirt free of Chris's pants, pulling the belt undone as he did it. Chris reached the bottom two buttons when Wesker shoved him, hard, making Chris stumble back and fall onto the bed when the backs of his knees connected with the edge of the mattress.

"Take your shirt off." Wesker growled at him, and Chris moved to oblige, Wesker taking off his own shirt at the same time. Letting himself admire his captain, Chris's eyes wandered across Wesker's bare chest, trailing down and looking at the strained material that hid the blonde's erection. Moving towards him, Wesker knelt on the bed, straddling over Chris's legs and grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing their mouths back together. Chris shuffled slightly back allowing Wesker more room to straddle him, trailing his hand down Wesker's chest, loving how the smooth, hard muscle felt under his touch. Wesker moved his hands down Chris's chest as well which made a thrill of excitement run through Chris, and Wesker pulled roughly at his pants, yanking the zipper down and then jerking them off of Chris and throwing them to the floor. Putting his hands on top of Chris's knees, Wesker leaned back slightly to admire his marksman's naked form beneath him, Chris blushing at the usual vulnerability of being totally naked, while Wesker remained partially clothed. Shivering at the way Wesker was looking down at him, Chris moved his hand to his pulsing cock meaning to jerk himself off, but Wesker grabbed his hand and leaned down to bring their faces close together. The grip around his wrist was tight, and Chris moaned slightly, enjoying this more than he should and desperately not wanting Wesker to see that.

"You ask my permission before you do that." He growled, and a thrill of excitement and exasperation ran through Chris. _Always gotta be in control of everything..._

"But I...I'm..."

"That's an order Redfield." Suppressing a smirk, he used his other hand to trail a finger slowly down his torso before wrapping it around Chris's cock. "And I know how _desperate_ you are to please your captain. Who, in case you've forgotten, is me." Chris moaned softly as Wesker slowly stroked him, leaning back against the soft blankets of the bed, letting the pleasure of Wesker's hand totally engulf him.

"Have you ever done this with any of your other superiors, Redfield?" Wesker's voice was a low purr in his ear, warm breath tickling down his neck as he stroked Chris. Swallowing hard, Chris shook his head against the mattress, eyes closed and heart racing. "Then why do you do this with me?"

"I...I don't..." Groaning when Wesker swirled the tip with his thumb, Chris opened his eyes to look up at Wesker crouched above him. "I don't know, I just...I just do. Sir." He moved his free hand down and tugged Wesker's pants undone with minimal difficulty, eventually succeeding and slipping his hand inside to stroke Wesker. Groaning above him, Chris leaned up to kiss Wesker again who obliged for a moment before pulling away entirely, and standing to tug his pants off. Chris used this opportunity to scoot up on the bed and lean himself against the pillows. Wesker got back onto the bed and leaned over Chris, drawing him into a kiss and resuming the strokes he had been giving him. Jerking each other off and grinding their hips against one another, Wesker moved his free hand to Chris's balls, giving them a squeeze and making Chris moan loudly into the kiss. He did this a moment, before moving his fingers a bit lower and...

Chris yelped embarrassingly, jerking his hips away from Wesker and breaking the kiss making Wesker chuckle deeply into his neck. It wasn't that it had hurt, just surprised Chris, mostly at how good even that light brush against his asshole had felt. Nipping the skin before leaning back to look at Chris, that smirk playing across his features and making Chris's heart go wild.

"I warned you I wouldn't be satisfied with this forever." His voice a horse growl, teasing and low and making Chris shiver.

"Yeah...yeah I know, I know that but...won't it, won't it hurt?" Chris felt himself blush as Wesker chuckled again, moving his hand up his chest and tracing a finger over the muscle. "I mean, don't you...need, uh..."

"If that's all you're worried about..." Sliding off the bed altogether, Wesker got up and took several strides across the room to the large set of drawers that stood at the opposite wall. Chris propped himself up on his elbows, heart beating wildly and the blush still heating his cheeks. Wesker rummaged until he found what he was looking for, turning and coming back to the bed.

The length of the bed was entirely taken up by the two men, Chris lying eagerly amongst the expensive sheets, heart slamming in his chest, while Wesker knelt at the base of the bed staring slyly up at the younger man. A bottle of lube was being casually twirled between his fingers, and Wesker was smirking at his young marksman. _I'm too fucking anxious and excited to even begin wondering why he already has that._ The thought was a blur, hovering around in Chris's head.

“For someone so uncertain about all of this, you seem to be pretty calm.” The cap clicked as Wesker flipped it up, and Chris nibbled his lip nervously, watching in complete absorbed fascination. 

“I just...I, I don’t know, it’s...” Wesker was squeezing a small amount of clear fluid onto his fingers, and watched as Chris stumbled over his words, his obvious nervousness making Wesker smirk even more. His heart was skipping beats thinking about what he was going to do with those fingers, and he was nervous and excited, hardly able to believe this was actually happening. Before now, all Chris had gotten were handjobs and the idea of anything further had scared him and excited him at the same time.

“As soon as you do know, feel free to share.” Leaning forward and shifting himself closer, Wesker used his left hand to first discard the bottle amongst the sheets, and prop Chris’s knee to the side. The other hand slid forward, and his slick fingers began rubbing a small circle around the brunette’s entrance making Chris grab handfuls of sheets and arch his back. _Fucking shit that feels even better, oh god, oh my god..._

An embarrassing whimper came from Chris who nearly yanked himself away, but the sheer curiosity and electric excitement at what Wesker was going to do was driving him insane. Feeling himself tense, Chris wanted to remember every moment of this, liking the feeling of Wesker’s hand holding his knee aside and Chris tried to lean up to watch Wesker, as the blonde slowly slid a finger inside of Chris’s hole causing the brunette to jerk his hips up and clench the sheets tighter.

Wiggling and moaning, he let his eyes shut when he did this, but his captain’s hand moved from his knee to his shoulder, the shift in weight making Wesker’s finger slide in deeper.

“Holy fucking _shit_ that feels good” Chris gasped. And it did, but it also felt really weird, Yeah sure, the physicals soldiers had to go through technically introduced this before, but now Chris _wanted_ this feeling. Chris felt his already rock hard cock twitch against his stomach at the excitement of Wesker fingering him. Chris’s obvious erection earned a soft chuckle from Wesker, who was leaning close enough for his nose to almost brush Chris’s cheek.

“Such a way with words, Redfield. How else would I make you feel?” Slowly he began sliding his finger in and out, the motion feeling strange but intoxicating all at once, and Chris dropped his head onto the pillows, letting the tenseness of his knees go. Wesker chuckled to himself seeing how easy it was to get Chris to enjoy it; to want more. Wesker knew how easy it would be to have Chris begging for more, and his movements followed that, knowing what it was Chris needed to feel. Sliding his finger out slowly he moved it in harder this time, but curved his finger as it went in causing a jolt from Chris who’s eyes snapped open and moaned.

“Oh _fuck_...” Gasping, he leaned back and heaved in a breath. Nothing he’d ever felt could compare to how fucking good that felt. “God, do that again, _please_ do that again,” and as Wesker obliged Chris’ moans grew louder and his breathing grew heavier. Wesker slid the finger out, this time adding a second which earned a grunt from Chris.

_Alright, now it’s starting to hurt a bit._ Chris thought, yet he didn’t want Wesker to stop. His cock throbbed again, and Chris’s left hand unbunched from the sheets and slid across his stomach, pausing to glance up at his captain and receiving a small nod, before jerking himself off. Masturbating while Wesker fingered his asshole was _not_ something Chris had anticipated when he first started spending so much time around his captain, yet he wasn’t about to protest. Leaning forward, Wesker’s lips grazed against Chris’s neck which sent a shiver down his spine, still adjusting to the feeling of what Wesker was doing to him between his legs. The pain continued, and when Wesker added a third finger Chris really did pull away.

“Ow, that fucking hurts!” Frowning and shimmying away from his captain on the sheets, yet Wesker just continued to stare at him, head cocked. The hint of a smirk sat on his lips, and Wesker leaned away from him slightly, keeping his hand against Chris’ stomach where it had migrated to during his motion. 

“Well what did you expect after so adamantly claiming that you’d never done this before?”

A blush crept into Chris’ cheeks and he looked sheepishly away from Wesker as he mumbled that he didn’t know. _You’re ruining the fucking moment. It’s like losing your virginity you idiot, of course it hurts. Fuck, is this how girls feel?_

Wesker’s fingers, only two again, stroked his hole before slowly sliding back in, and Chris let his eyes shut as he relaxed once again. The pleasure came back; the dull ache that had generated subsiding and the curve of Wesker’s fingers inside of him were hitting him just right, making him moan softly and forget his fleeting embarrassment. Leaning against Chris and over him, Wesker continued the evenly paced strokes of his fingers and kissed Chris, slipping his tongue between their lips and curving his fingers upwards again earning a moan from Chris. Turning his head and raising it off the bed, Chris leaned into the kiss desperately, a deep, long kiss like this from his captain so rare that Chris wanted to savor every second of it. Breaking apart, Wesker slid his fingers more quickly and he looked down at Chris’ face in amusement.

“If you don’t let me get you acquainted with this feeling,” he purred, “how do you ever expect me to get my cock inside of you?”

Chris’s breath heaved as his heart did a somersault at that. Mild panic mingled with the building pleasure he was feeling right in his core. _Fuck...did he mean...oh god, yes, fuck it feels so good...did he mean tonight...fuck..._. Mind racing with mixed thoughts, Chris felt his cock swell and his orgasm swim to the surface as he came, hips jolting and feeling his muscles clench around Wesker’s fingers.

Slowing his movements, letting Chris ride out his orgasm, Wesker did something obscenely erotic that made Chris’s eyes widen in surprise and incredible lust. Leaning down and pulling his fingers out, Wesker drew his tongue languidly up the younger’s cock pausing to swirl it against the still dripping head, watching Chris as he did it, and rising to meet his mouth, dipping his tongue into the kiss. A sweet but salty taste came with it and Chris realized he tasted himself from Wesker’s mouth. Pulling away after a moment, Wesker smirked and looked down into the other’s eyes.

“Now, be a good boy and return the favor.” Sliding off of Chris, the blonde shoved one of the pillows against the backboard of the bed, spreading his legs and slipping his hand down to his still pulsing cock. Rolling over, Chris hesitantly leaned forward to kiss Wesker again, slipped his hand to the erection and jerking him off. Wesker let him for a moment, moaning softly into the kiss before pulling Chris’s hand away and shaking his head slightly.

“Use your mouth.” Wesker hissed in his ear, and a deep blush filled his cheeks. Opening his mouth to protest, the smirk disappeared and Wesker leaned forward so he was slightly looking down at Chris. "And if I hear you complain one more time, you won't be getting any more pleasure from this for a long time. Now, I told you to do something, so _do > it."_

Wesker settled back against the pillows watching as Chris leaned forward and kissed Wesker's chest. _Just do it the way girls have always done it to you. Easy, right? Oh fuck, I can't believe I'm about to fucking..._ He felt his cheeks warm as he slid down further, trailing kisses down Wesker's stomach, reaching to his cock and stroking it before closing his eyes and running his tongue tentatively up Wesker's length. The thought of how weird it felt to do this to someone was replaced by the sound of Wesker holding back a groan from above him.

"Good, Redfield, just like that..." Prickling with a dull sense of accomplishment at Wesker's approval, Chris repeated the motion while stroking him slowly and firmly, remembering to give him a slight squeeze at the base. _It tastes...well, it doesn't really taste like anything._ A blush crept into his cheeks again and his breathing was shaky. His heart racing, he slid the tip of Wesker's cock into his mouth again considering the lack of taste, and feeling the shiver of response from his captain, moved his head slightly until he almost gagged, jerking his head back and blushing furiously. _Fucking hell, I'm never going to be able to do this, those stupid popsicle sticks they shove on your tongue in the medical exams are too much for me, how the fuck..._ The feeling of Wesker's fist knotting itself in his hair brought him out of his thoughts, and the blonde brought his head down against his cock again. Chris knotted his fists in the sheets, tears springing to his eyes at the sensation and trying not to cough again.

Struggling to think through the haze in his mind, Chris run his tongue along Wesker's tip, dragging it across the sensitive slit on top and Wesker groaned. again, before letting out a low chuckle.

"So quick to catch on," Propping himself up more, he guided Chris's head in its movements, and Chris knew that he was still in charge over him, still in control of every movement the brunette made. "I told you that you'd learn quickly." The words gave Chris that tingle of pleasure at having done something to impress Wesker, and he let his captain guide his head, feeling him tense and shiver beneath him. Submitted to him, Chris held back his resistance and Wesker increased the pace with which he moved Chris's head, sitting up more to jerk his hips, making Chris grab the bed sheets hard to control his gag reflex. It didn't take long before Wesker grabbed Chris's hair more roughly, forcing his head all the way down, Chris gagging at the combined feeling of his captain pushing so deep against his throat, and cumming in his mouth. Without even hesitating, Chris swallowed the liquid, squeezing his eyes shut as he did, dragging another moan from Wesker. He had mostly done it so he didn't taste it, but the salty, slightly bitter taste lingered on his tongue and Wesker shuddered slightly as Chris swallowed him.

Releasing his head, Chris fell away from Wesker, collapsing amongst the now disheveled sheets, panting and catching his breath. Swinging himself off the bed, Wesker went into the bathroom, kicking the door shut with his foot. A flurry of thoughts were clouding his mind with the most prevalent being how absolutely, incredibly and utterly spent he was. Yawning deeply, he realized for the first time how comfortable Wesker's bed was, and opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. _Well. You've done it now._ His eyes heavily started closing as he felt his body relaxing when the room suddenly went dark. Opening his eyes with some difficulty, he turned his head to see the outline of Wesker slipping under the covers in the dark and he felt the familiar feeling of confusion.

"I'd sleep if I were you, Redfield. It's already almost five." Chris blinked at his captain's words.

"I..." His voice was hoarse and he decided to just do what his instincts told him instead of protesting. Sitting up, he pulled the covers down on his side of the bed and slipped under them hesitantly. He lay on his back and waited for Wesker to kick him out and make him sleep in the other room. Instead, Wesker's breathing became soft and slow, and Chris realized his captain was falling asleep beside him. A brief debate about whether or not to try and sleep close to Wesker ended before it had even had the chance to properly form. _Don't push your luck, kiddo._

Chris stared at the ceiling for a long time before he finally fell asleep.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Merry Christmas, to my home away from home." Holding up a glass of eggnog, Jill giggled as Brad and Joseph tugged at a cracker, trying to yank it apart without startling themselves. Chris smiled, watching them, having spent the entire day after the debriefing sitting with most of Alpha and Bravo swapping stories and enjoying each other's company. Sitting beside the small Christmas tree Jill had insisted on placing in the main common room, Chris had been mostly quiet that day and Wesker had been absent all together. That morning, Chris had taken a shower after figuring out how to use Wesker's complicated bathroom, and had sipped coffee quietly at the table watching the morning news as Wesker dressed and readied himself. Wesker had even driven Chris to work and he had been positive that everyone would have figured it out, but the only person who said anything was Barry who poked Chris and asked if he thought that Wesker was still out to get him even though he'd given him a ride to work.

Chris had his face buried in the sleeves of a black RCPD hoodie, breathing in the smell of Wesker's shampoo and soap that lingered on his skin. His ass and throat were both tender, and thinking about why made him smile to himself behind his arms. The smile disappeared when he pondered about the next time they would be able to do anything in such privacy. _And also that the next time, it's probably not going to be his fingers that he shoves inside of you._ Nibbling the drawstring of his sweater, Chris shifted his feet underneath him.

"Penny for your thoughts, oh silent one?" Forest laughed, nudged Chris with his foot and eating from a plate of sugar cookies Rebecca had brought everyone. Chris raised his eyebrows and gave his friend a shrug.

"Just thinking about everything that's comin' after Christmas. The big Parcini bust and all." And it wasn't a lie. On the ride to the station, Wesker had told Chris everything he wanted from them on the 28th, and despite his confidence in their abilities, Chris felt anxious about the danger that potentially lay in wait for them. Forest nodded, but shrugged.

"Worry about that after Christmas, isn't Claire coming?"

"No, she's snowed in. Said she'd call me though, and try to make it up for New Year's." Sighing, Chris drank some more eggnog, enjoying the faint tingle of drunkenness that was hazing his mind. "I guess you're right, I should just enjoy the holidays and train up for next week." Shuffling closer to join the group, Chris thought anxiously about the upcoming week, with work being the primary cause of anxiety in his life for once, and hoping that maybe everything would be alright and he'd make it to the New Year.

_All I know for sure is that this is going to be the longest week of my fucking life._

Chris had no idea how right he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note to end on. Well, two small notes. 
> 
> The first is that this chapter and the last two have titles that I borrowed from a song that I attribute solely to Chris and Wesker. It's called Jerk It Out by the Caesars (sound familiar?) Anyways, I recommend you all go listen to it! Try telling me that song's not entirely devoted to our favourite two S.T.A.R.S. members.
> 
> Also, reading all the comments (and thank you all SO much for them, I read and smile like an idiot at every single one!) I realize that 90% of them include some variation of "Poor Chris". I think I went a bit easier on him this chapter...maybe? -sigh- I mean, we all know how this story ends up...but I'm gonna try and at least let Chris become a little less confused.
> 
> Until next time!~~~~


	13. Goodbye Gangsters, Hello New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker organizes the takedown of the mob-boss who's been plaguing Alpha team, leaving Chris a bit concerned over his captain's methods, and S.T.A.R.S. celebrates New Year's together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive, I promise! November is always such a hectic month, and between work, Fallout 4, and TV show midseason finales, I've hardly been around online.
> 
> But here I am! And I bring the next chapter. I (as promised) wrap up the plot of their first formal investigations in this chapter. I did include a tiny bit of what we're all after right at the beginning, but like I said, I do have to -try- and remember that I have a plot going, here. Anyways hope you all enjoy! I will try and be at least a bit more efficient with the next chapter.

The archival records room of the Raccoon City Police department were one of the most boring, stuffy, isolated rooms in the whole establishment, and were exactly the perfect place to get jerked off with nobody stumbling upon you. As Wesker stood behind Chris Redfield doing just that, it was all Chris could do not to moan out loud, biting down instead on the cloth Wesker had shoved in his mouth as another heavy binder fell off the shelf beside them with a thud. Wesker's playful smirk disappeared and he drew his brows together and he leaned forward to brush his lips against Chris's ear.

"Stop knocking things over." He hissed, but Chris was breathing so heavily the only acknowledgement of the command he could muster was a fast nod. Pulling his arm from the shelf he'd been holding onto, he reached behind him and grabbed a fistful of Wesker's shirt instead, the new leverage bringing him closer to Wesker's body causing his captain's erection to grind into his lower back. This rendezvous in the archives room had been entirely unexpected but Chris wasn't about to start complaining, not even to himself. If there was one thing Chris knew it was that this was _way_ better than rummaging around for old sewer maps of the city. Wesker had closed and locked the door behind them unknowing to Chris, and followed the marksman to the back of the room where he'd immediately wrapped his arms around Chris from behind and drawn their bodies flush together.

Now they stood among the shelves of fat binders, rolled up maps, and dusty loose papers with Wesker standing right up against Chris, front up against the younger's back, with Chris's pants undone and his cock pulled out as Wesker jerked him off. Chris squeezed his eyes shut and let the sensation fill his mind. It was a welcome relief from all of the stress of the impending arrests that were supposed to happen that very evening. It had felt like the week had gone by in a stressful blur of maps, reviewing the taped conversations, and going over and over what Alpha had decided was a very smart plan on Wesker's part. Just as Chris began thinking of the activities that were to follow that evening and about how many different ways it could go wrong, he was snapped back to reality by a twist of the tip of his cock, making a new bead of precum drip down his length and causing him to groan against the material in his mouth.

"Can't have my star marksman distracted on such a big night, can I? And don't go saying you wouldn't have just fantasized about this all night," Wesker hissed again, squeezing the base of his cock and nipping the skin of his neck. "Because you're a terrible liar."

Instead of attempting a muffled protest as Wesker predicted, he groaned softly again and moved his hips backwards to grind up against Wesker. Feeling him shudder slightly, Chris felt encouraged and slid a hand from Wesker's shirt down behind them to rub his captain over the tight material of his pants. Although it was difficult to do while facing away from him, Chris did manage to make Wesker give a soft sigh into his neck. Just as he was about to attempt to maneuver Wesker's zipper out of the way, the blonde turned him slightly and shoved him against the wall, his cheek pressing against the cool surface, and letting his hands come forward to push flat against it to steady himself.

"Although I suppose you'll go ahead and fantasize about this anyways." Wesker mused, and Chris could hear the lust in his voice, knowing that if they had the time he'd be doing far more than jerking Chris off in an unused room at the station. Feeling his captain's hand release the hold on his hip, he yanked the material from Chris's mouth and it was only after Wesker had slid two fingers into his mouth that Chris realized it had been one of his gloves that he'd used as a gag. Closing his eyes, Chris sucked at the fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and wishing surprisingly to himself that it was Wesker's cock instead. _And you've only ever done that to him once._ Wesker must have been wishing for the same thing since he gave a low growl of satisfaction into Chris's neck again. 

"This isn't enough to satisfy you anymore, is it?" Wesker's voice was a low purr in his ear as Chris felt his dark green cargo pants get yanked further down his hip before the stroking resumed. Pulling his fingers from the younger's mouth, Wesker bent Chris forward slightly, reaching between them to give a light stroke between his cheeks. Chris groaned deeply, letting his eyes shut against the wall. "You need a little more. You need me to satisfy you like this instead."

Chris felt Wesker massaging him and that erased what had been left of the stress. _At least for the next several minutes, anyways..._ Using the saliva from Chris's mouth as lubrication, he pressed against Chris's tight hole with his wet fingers, meeting some resistance before Chris's body accepted the intrusion. Biting his lip hard, Chris shuddered against the wall, his hands forming fists against the cool concrete. It was still such a weird, new feeling for him but that didn't at all stop his burning desire to just feel this more and more. _Fuck...how did I get here?_ His breathing growing more and more erratic, Wesker timed the strokes of his cock with the thrusts of his fingers, curling them inside and drawing another shallow gasp from Chris. There were no thoughts in Chris's head except how fucking _good_ this felt, and his heart raced when he remembered they were just out in the open where anyone could walk in on them.

Feeling Wesker grinding his hips against the hand he'd slid between them, Chris felt himself on the edge and tried to communicate this to his captain through a shaky protest. His body shivered and his balls tightened as he felt his orgasm taking over, making him squeeze his eyes shut. Wesker's relentless stroking and thrusting made it too hard for him to form the words to tell Wesker he was cumming, and he shot warm, sticky threads of liquid up onto his stomach, the wall, and Wesker's hand, with only that causing Wesker to slow. Trembling and trying not to collapse against the wall, Chris shivered as Wesker drew his fingers out of Chris and pulled away form him, hearing him chuckle quietly to himself. Chris heard a rustling sound and opened his eyes, still panting, and watched Wesker grab a crinkled paper off the shelf to wipe off his hand.

"Aren't those city documents?" Chris asked breathily, making Wesker laugh again.

"City documents that the mayor himself could care less about. Clean yourself up, it's getting late and we need to get moving." The words made stress jump-start his body into motion again, and Chris straightened, following Wesker's lead and pulling what he hoped was an obscure and irrelevant paper from the stack and wiping himself off. Tucking himself back into his briefs, he yanked his pants back up and fastened the belt, watching as Wesker pulled a large stack of folders off of a shelf. Turning, he dumped them into Chris's arms and turned to walk back upstairs.

"What, you mean we really _did_ need sewer maps?"

"No. The sewer maps are in my office." He shot Chris a smirk over his shoulder, leading him back down the hallways towards the Alpha common room. "Those are so nobody feels concerned as to why you came with me."

Chris felt a funny feeling in his stomach as Wesker and he rejoined the rest of their team, prepping themselves and glancing up from the table they all huddled around. Wesker snatched the folders from him and went off to his office after telling everyone else there was a five minute wait until they departed for the night. Joining Jill at the table, adjusting his weapons and utilities belt and vest, he hoped nothing looked out of place as she shared some anxious small talk with the rest of the team. _That means he took you there right with the intention of...no, don't even start dwelling. You've got your job to do. You're taking down a mob boss in an hour._ His heart flipped in nervous excitement at the thought, and he looked up as Wesker rejoined them around the table.

"Alright. Let's recap the plan so that everyone knows what they're expected to do, and how this will play out." Wesker crossed his arms over his broad chest, moving his eyes around the circle of them. "If everything goes according to plan, and it will, this will be a clean arrest. Simple and straight cut. Burton, start us off."

"Yes, sir. Vickers and myself are going to meet with Enrico in a parking lot down the block from the dock where the bust is happening." Barry moved his finger along the map, tracing the street he was talking about. "Once we reach the first building, Parcini will have a group of men trading canned good packages and deliveries. What we know is a front; Parcini means us to think they're drugs instead. We'll make a big deal of claiming a search and seizure, say we got info that suggests that at this dock there'd be a drug trade. Y'know, make it believable. Pull out the warrant you gave us, and make a big deal about having them open and empty all the boxes, be as much of a nuisance as possible. If nothing else, it will be a huge pain in the ass for them. Which is fine by me." Barry gave Wesker an approving grin, since it was thanks to some intel Wesker had come across that they knew this would be going down. Nodding, Wesker turned to Joseph.

"Frost?"

"I'll be watching rooftop with Forest two blocks away. Parcini is going to be three factories down, carrying out his swap on the water-level boat entrance. A small cruise ship, no lights and unmarked. Coast watch is making the rounds in the north, so this will have a small time window of maybe twenty minutes, tops. Once I see the boat on the approach, I'll radio down to Jill, who will then give the signal to Chris and yourself. I need to keep an eye on anything out of the ordinary, make sure that contact is maintained, and that Parcini doesn't alter his plans. Once the team reaches Parcini, it's my task to co-ordinate the arrest of the men at the first dock, as well as rendezvous with the Alpha team handling Parcini." 

Wesker nodded, unfolding one of the sewer maps in front of them on the table and turning to give Jill an inquiring glance. Jill leaned forward on the table, nodding at the map.

"You, myself, and Chris are going to walk along this sewer tunnel." she traced a finger over a rounded tunnel drawn under the factories and alleys of the docks. "It's a maintenance tunnel, so there's a walkway inside. It goes under the entirety of the docks, and opens here, which is under the docks where Parcini is going to be. Captain Wesker will direct us up and to a position after we've gauged the number of men. Since Parcini is keeping this small, he won't want a big draw. We suspect there will be only one or two other men with Parcini before he actually makes the deal."

"And since Parcini thinks that the RCPD believes the other deal, he'll never see us coming." Chris let a small grin play across his features, nodding.

"Don't get too cocky. Any of you." Wesker said sternly, glancing around at the group of them. "Parcini may think that we believe his other deal, but we'd be fools to think he wouldn't at least consider planning for an ambush. The men he has with them will be armed, which my team will need to account for. It shouldn't be a problem. Redfield, I trust you can take care of any unwanted gunfire on our end, including Parcini. This isn't necessarily a mission where we need a live capture. Arresting Parcini would be ideal, but having an excuse to kill him would certainly get rid of any potential for luck in court on his part. Should Parcini draw his weapon, don't aim at his knees."

Chris gulped slightly, and gave Wesker a stiff nod. He glanced to the rest of the team who all wore serious expressions, understanding what Wesker was saying. _Never had a captain that basically said use any excuse to kill the fuckers._ Chris got the point though; they all did. Men like Parcini didn't just go to jail, they had lengthy, drawn out trials and often ended up getting away with almost everything. In the end, having an excuse to kill them within the law just made things either. _It's rough, but that's justice. I guess._

"It's almost 7 now. In fifteen minutes, a squad car is doing a routine patrol along the docks where they'll observe that the staged merchandise pass is beginning, and that Bravo team is in place. Fifteen minutes after that, Burton and Vickers will co-ordinate with Bravo and move into position at the first location. While this is happening, Frost will position himself on the rooftop where a unit has already established both radio set-up and sufficient monitoring equipment." Wesker placed his fists on the table, brows drawn together behind the dark shades he wore. His vest, weapons, and heavy black jacket made him look quite intimidating, and certainly made them all confident that this would be a success. Turning to face Jill and Chris, he continued. "By 7:30, the boat will be almost in position, and Parcini and his associates will almost certainly already be at the second location. From 7:30 to approximately 7:50 is our time window. We move through the sewer tunnel, up onto dock level, apprehend the men and Parcini after a brief assessment of their position. If they draw weapons, shoot. If they try to run, shoot. By 8 o'clock this evening, Louis Parcini will no longer be a problem for the RCPD. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" The voices of Alpha ran in unison, all of them straightening and nodding at their captain. Wesker gave them a two minute departure warning, with Frost an immediate dismissal to make his way to the roof. Chris and the others did a brief re-check of ammo, weapon readiness, and health supplies before following Wesker up and out. Barry and Brad divided off, heading to a large police cruiser, turning the sirens and lights on and speeding out of the lot. Jill, Chris, and Wesker walked around the back of the lot, getting into a large, black truck that Wesker seemed to favor. Jill climbed into the back after loading the gear, and Chris and Wesker slid into the front. Going over the plan once again, Wesker pulled into a construction area where the three of them ditched the car and headed down into the sewer tunnel.

The hike across town was dark, damp and foul-smelling, and the trio walked mostly in strained, rushed silence. A large walkway at least provided them with elevation above the sewage water, and their brisk demeanor prevented them from lingering in the odor too long. After reaching a divide in the tunnel, Chris and Wesker turned and walked down the left path, while Jill carried on down the right. Since it was a relatively straight line, even once they reached the ends of the tunnel they could all still see each other. Holding a hand up, Wesker signaled Chris to stay back in the shadows, while he leaned forward against the darkened entrance.

"Valentine, tell me once you see the patrol boat pass by, and of any other vessels you spot. Even just a fishing boat."

"Yes, sir." Came Jill's hushed radioed reply. The sounds of water lapping at the cement walkway leading up to the dock echoed in the sewage tunnel, and the smell of lake-water mixed with the putrid smell of sewage. Wesker leaned his head out, hand on his gun and waiting. Several moments of silence passed, and when Jill's soft voice came out of Wesker's radio again it made Chris jump. "Boat's passed, captain."

"Follow me, stay low." Wesker moved to the walkway leading to a metal staircase, and Chris trailed behind with his gun drawn at his hip. Hunched and moving fast, they darted up the stairs and moved along behind some shipping crates. Faint voices echoed around the open space, and Chris recognized one of them as Parcini. Leaning around, Wesker took a quick look before standing fully concealed again. "Parcini's there. And so is Volicki."

"Mario Volicki? His second?" Chris was startled, Wesker's information had placed Volicki and Brenner at the other dock to validate the ruse. Wesker nodded, turning to glance again at the men and leaned back, pursing his lips./p>

"One other, a gun man. We can flank them. The gunman and Volicki are further, Parcini is positioned a bit closer to the docks." Turning to face Chris, adrenaline and apprehension sat between them in the air. "I'll move to cover Volicki and the unknown, they're standing close enough that I can take both of them. You take Parcini. If he moves, shoot him. Same to the other two. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Chris said through tight lips. Wesker ducked and ran along the base of the crates, while Chris leaned out to look for himself. Parcini stood with his back to him, Volicki and the other man standing several crates away, side by side and going over a sheet of paper. Parcini was standing and looking out over the water, drumming the toe of an expensive leather boot against the ground. Chris was relieved it hadn't gotten all that cold in Raccoon City yet, and that the ground was free of snow and ice here. Heart pounding, Chris could see Wesker on a crate directly beside the two men, hidden from them. Maintaining eye contact for only a moment, Wesker gave a slight nod to Chris.

"R.C.P.D. freeze!" Wesker's voice rang out sharp and clear. Both men jumped and reach for their coats, Parcini's hand already sliding sneakily up the front of his long grey pea-coat.

"Hands where we can see them, nobody move!" Chris shouted, making Parcini whip to face him, hand frozen halfway between sliding through the brown buttons of his coat, a look of mild annoyance and surprise on his face. Wesker and Chris had their guns drawn and aimed at chest level, and a moment of stuffy silence went by, before all three men slowly raised their hands up.

"Well well, the brave and bold special agents of Raccoon City. I did wonder when I'd get to meet you face to face." Parcini's voice was smug, slimy even, and Chris dared him to do something. He hated this guy, and it was technically the first time they'd ever been introduced face to face. _Give me a reason you son of a bitch._ "Y'know, you bunch have been causing me an awful lot of grief these past couple of months. And I had to get rid of one of my best working gals because of you. Though I must admit, I'm surprised you knew about my little operation this evening --"

"Everyone to their knees, now!" Wesker shouted, but Volicki turned and made a grab at Wesker's weapon before he could pursue his command any further. A shot to ring out and clang against a crate during their commotion, and Volicki had taken Wesker so off guard that the pair were grappling the weapon now. Chris whipped around to aim his gun at the other two men, but Parcini had ducked away behind the crates Wesker and Chris had just been behind and the unknown third man had hidden as well. Wesker slammed the butt of his gun against Volicki's jaw across the dock from Chris, and he stumbled back, but Chris stood in a slight panic, worried he'd miss their next move.

"I don't have eyes on him, sir!" Chris shouted, gun trained at Volicki who had once again raised his arms and was the only noticeable target, but darting his eyes around looking for any other sign of movement. Wesker ordered Volicki to the ground, and moved forward to subdue him, kneeing him roughly in the backs of his knees. Chris saw a shadowed movement from his left that he knew was Parcini making a move, but just as he went to turn he saw the third man jolt towards Wesker from behind a parked crane near where they stood. " _Wesker!_ "

Volicki jumped at Wesker as the blonde went to avoid the attack from behind. The gun-man stumbled backwards towards where the shout had come from, raising his gun to point over towards Chris. He never got the chance, and Chris's single shot echoed around the crates, bullet hitting its mark right between the man's eyes and making him crumple to the ground, dead. Panic overtook Chris as he heard grunting and movement from the ground where Volicki had tackled Wesker, and Chris ran. _Can't see him, can't shoot the fucker if I can't see Wesker...fuck fuck fuck!_ The cold air was searing his lungs and throat, pure adrenaline fueled his leap over the last storage crate. _Be okay...be okay..._

Ready for whatever scene he met, Chris rose the gun and came to a stop just in time to watch Volicki's eyes widen, hands raising to his chest in surrender.

"Please, don't..." But it was too late. The long, thick, serrated edge of the S.T.A.R.S. knife was driven into Mario Volicki's neck, making blood gurgle up and out of his mouth. Wesker was panting, growling as he did it and crouched over top of the large man like a predator subduing his prey. Chris felt his blood go cold. The way Wesker looked while he did that, the violent strength in the way he drove the blade through his throat...

From somewhere to his left he saw a flash of movement, and Chris whipped around just in time to see Parcini reaching into his coat and pulling out a pistol. Lifting his handgun, Chris didn't bother giving him a warning, instead taking aim and firing twice. Both bullets hit him in the chest, the gun clattering to the ground and Parcini falling backwards. Running between the crates, Chris connected his boot to the gun and kicked it, sending it toppling off the dock and into the water. Blood was soaking through the grey material of the fallen mobster's coat, and he gave a bloody grin up at Chris before his eyes rolled up and his body relaxed. Panting, chest heaving, Chris shivered in the sudden silence, gun aimed shakily down at Parcini because he didn't know what else to do. A rustle of movement behind him made the brunette turn to look at his captain.

Wesker had pulled the knife from his neck, blood pooling on the ground under Volicki's head. Dragging the flat side of the blade over the dead man's jacket, Wesker wiped it clean of blood before slipping it back into the sheath and rising slowly to his feet. He turned towards Chris and their eyes met. Standing across from one another in a hush, Wesker was calm and collected for every bit of heavy breathing and anxiety that remained with Chris. Neither of them said anything, but stood staring at one another, the smell of blood and gunfire permeating in the air. As he stared, Chris saw something in Wesker's eyes that he'd never seen before; a cold, disassociation from what he'd done, from everything that had just happened. _The man had given up, he was begging for his life..._ An uncomfortable flutter went through his stomach at the thought, the calmness of his captain chilling him. _No, he was just...just doing his job._ Sirens and flashing lights suddenly surrounded them, and the voice of Jill Valentine calling to them broke the tension in the air. Dividing off and going over everything that had happened, Chris explained everything but left out Volicki. _Let Wesker explain..._ Chris glanced over at his captain who was talking extensively to Enrico. As Marini was replying, Wesker looked over at Chris again.

And smirked.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"...what Mayor Warren is now calling 'a brilliant show of bravery, bravado, and ultimate demonstration that Raccoon City is done with organized crime'. Mario Volicki and Lou Parcini, the two heads of the largest crime family in Raccoon City were killed last week in what was supposed to be an arrest at a drug trade on the docks. A small shoot-out took place, leaving no survivors of the organized crime family involved, and was played out thanks to the actions of one of two captains of the recently formed special tactics unit of the Raccoon City Police Department. The special task units known as S.T.A.R.S. have been active since earlier this year, and have been working extensively on disbanding and apprehending various members and elements of the Parcini Organized Crime family; the largest mafia family currently residing in Raccoon City. Chief of police Brian Irons has described the formation of the S.T.A.R.S. as a gift to the city. The group of course was founded and funded by the Umbrella Corporation, who will be hosting their annual New Year's Ball at the end of January, officially recognizing and honoring the members of S.T.A.R.S. Alpha and Bravo teams for their acts of service to the city. We now turn to organized crime expert Bill Rutherford in order to better understand why this dissolution of the Parcini family is so important, and just how extensive Lou Parcini's hold on Raccoon City had been. Bill..."

"Boy, 'bravery and bravado...acts of service to the city'. I mean, really we were just doing what we're paid to do." Jill laughed, tossing some popcorn into her mouth. Most of Alpha was crammed onto the same two couches at the pub while Bravo was having a loud game of pool beside them. They were all pleasantly buzzed and waiting for midnight. Chris couldn't believe the year was already over. _And what a crazy fucking year it's been. Fired from the Air Force, unemployed, moved to a new city..._ He sipped his beer and mulled over the events of the year. _...let your captain finger fuck your asshole..._ He coughed on his beer.

"Whoa, slow down there, we only got a bit longer to go until midnight." Jill said with a laugh, patting him on the back as he cleared his throat, eyes watering. He choked out a thank you to her, and gave her a smile. They'd invited Wesker out tonight, and he'd almost said no, but Jill had pleaded and coaxed and finally Wesker had agreed. Chris threw a look behind him at the bar where his captain sat with Enrico and few other men from the station, drinking a whiskey and looking bored. Chris almost grinned at this, until he remembered that cold look in his eye as he murdered Volicki. _Not quite, bud. Murderers don't win medals for 'acts of service to the city', do they?_ Chris frowned at this, turning back to chat with Barry and mulling over the notions morality and justice.

"Fuck, the regular cops sure do know how to play pool." Forest laughed, dropping into an armchair across from Chris, large glass in hand.

"Hey now, don't hate them just because they're a better shot on the range and at the pool table than you, yeah?" Kicking his knee, Chris gave him a wink at which Forest scoffed.

"Please, Redfield. The last time we shot together I hit more targets than you."

"Uh, think you mean, _almost_ hit more. Your bullet casing bouncing off of it doesn't count."

"Boys, please keep your strange dominance displays to yourself! It's almost midnight!" Jill held up her hands, laughing and leaning slightly against Chris. Grinning at Forest, Chris let himself rest in chin on top of her head and listen to the conversation about fighting techniques that had developed between Barry and a few of the Bravo guys. Sighing and topping up his glass of beer from the pitcher, Chris settled on the idea that he'd been over-reacting about seeing Wesker kill Volicki. His drunk brain was in full effect now, and he shifted his weight on the couch to look at Wesker who still sat at the bar, but was now deep in conversation with two men Chris didn't recognize.

 _Sure would be cool if he came and talked to me. Not even about anything work related, just..._ But Chris couldn't think of a single thing he could discuss with Wesker. Whenever they found themselves alone and work wasn't a subject, they hadn't exactly been discussing books and TV shows...

"Capitano! Join us for the big countdown!" Barry leapt to his feet, waving a hand for the volume on the television to be turned up. The news was showing the big tree in New York, and the small countdown on the bottom of the screen said only five minutes until the New Year. Jill straightened beside Chris and began eagerly chatting about how excited she was.

"I know, it's stupid. It's nothing except changing a number at the end of the date, but still. It's just, I don't know so hyped up or something how can you not be excited?" Swaying and giggling, Chris gave her a small smile and saw Wesker moving nearer where they sat, propping himself against the arm of the couch. Their eyes met for a brief second, and Chris looked away with a dull heat in his cheeks. _Cold killer or not he looks really damn good in the black button down shirt..._

"Oh boy, here we go! Only a minute left!" Joseph gave a small cheer of excitement, and Jill clutched onto Chris's arm, chugging down the rest of the mixed drink, eyes shining brightly. Chris sipped his beer, head swimming slightly from all of the booze. He looked over at Wesker again who was looking around at everyone, sipping his whiskey and not saying anything. _What would happen if you kissed him at midnight, huh?_

"Ten!" _Don't be stupid..._

"Nine!" _In here? With literally everyone else?_

"Eight!" _Besides, a kiss at midnight?_

"Seven!" _Are you twelve?_

"Six!" His heart gave an excited leap.

"Five!" A glance over at Wesker, who's eyes were trained on the T.V.

"Four!" He turned back and joined the final countdown.

"Three!" His voice wavered and he grinned.

"Two!" Jill squeezed his arm.

"One!" Everyone in the room leaped to their feet, loud cheers and clapping and laughter filled the room. "Happy New Years!"

Beside him, Jill squealed in laughter, jumping up and throwing her arms in the air. Turning to Chris, she threw her arms around him and he hugged her tightly, burying his face into her neck and thinking drunkenly how nice she smelled. Pulling away from each other, she brushed her lips lightly over his and gave him a big grin.

"Happy New Year's, Chris! 1997 here we come!" Laughing still, she pulled away from him and went to give light pecks to Brad and Joseph, the sounds of clinking glasses filling the room. Chris felt dizzy and happy, feeling that light brush of the lips and finding himself wondering what Wesker would have done if he'd been beside him instead of Jill. Barry came and gave him a rough hug, and Chris laughed again. Moving to give hugs to the rest of his team, he remembered that somewhere among all this noise and celebration was his straight faced captain. Frowning to himself, he turned and looked, thinking that if he were to run and give him a hug, nobody would say anything and he could write it off as being drunk.

But Wesker was nowhere to be seen.


	14. My One and Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris finally gets what he wants out of Wesker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here it is. I know...this chapter is -long-, but I promise I think it's worth it. As this is probably going to be my last update in 2015, I figured I'd make it a nice, lengthy, smutty, er, "action packed" chapter. Consider this a Christmas gift to you all, even if you don't celebrate. I really did truly enjoy writing this one, and I can't wait that I now have all this freedom to keep going.
> 
> Also, I don't know why I'm torturing myself by making the interactions between Chris and Wesker so...so...asldjalksj-worthy, y'know? Why Wesker, whyyyyyyy must you be who you are?! -sighs dramatically-
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year! Let's finish 2015 off with a bang. I know Chris sure does. See you all in the New Year!

"You don't think it's...bad?" Chris asked after explaining with some glossing over of what Wesker had done to Jill over a dimly lit pub dinner. The pair had spent the entire day shopping, moving between each of Raccoon City's malls and wandering into every single store that even looked like it sold dresses. Jill had tried on everything she could find, rejecting everything and making Chris trail behind her. Eventually they'd given up, going to a pub they found while walking along the busy shopping district, and now sat surrounded by small shopping bags, eating and drinking beers.

"Bad? No way. Unfortunate? Yes. We probably could've used Volicki for information about what would happen to the remaining family. But he'd already pulled one over on Wesker that night, and attacked him twice. Captain Wesker had every reason to distrust him and subdue him."

"Yeah but stabbing him in the throat?" Chris drank his beer and Jill shrugged. Considering, he shook his head slightly. "It was just...he just looked so mean while he did it."

"Well, c'mon Chris, what is killing someone supposed to look like?" Jill arched an eyebrow. "If it's really bothering you so much, corner him and bring it up with him. Maybe hearing him reason it out to you will make you feel better,"

_Yeah, if he ever bothers to show up at work for more than five minutes._ But he just gave her a shrug and signaled the waitress for the check. The rest of the night was spent walking back to the police station and hanging out in the common area. All of Alpha minus Wesker got involved in a big card game that night on the floor in the common area, and none of them heard from Wesker at all except when he left his office to go down the hall to his room.

Chris slept restlessly that night, waking frequently with vague memories of a bad dream but never able to put his finger on what it was he'd dreamed of. Tossing his things for the weekend into his duffle bag, he shouldered it and accepted a ride the next morning from Jill who asked if they could go that evening together. Barry had sped off early to ready his family, since they'd been invited. Claire was busy with her new semester and looming midterms ("...and besides Chris, a ball? Me? In a floor length dress?...") so he needed Jill to help him look presentable anyways.

"I don't even understand this...Umbrella ball thing. Who throws _balls_ anymore?"

"I was talking to Enrico about it, it's just a big formal dinner party thing that Umbrella holds for the RCPD at the beginning of every year." Jill was tugging his buttons shut, making sure his shirt was tucked properly in and that his jacket would cover it perfectly. She then draped his deep red tie around his neck and started fussing to do it up for him. "The only reason they've turned it into a gala-type thing this year is for the medals of recognition the mayor is giving S.T.A.R.S. There's gonna be a dinner, the award ceremony, and then a cocktail "hour" that goes the rest of the night."

"I hope crime happens so that we have to cut it short." Chris grumbled as Jill finished readying him with a pat to the chest. He looked over her sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, which made for a funny combination with the light makeup and loose waves she'd put in her hair. "What look are you going for, Vogue hobo?"

"Shut up, 007." She said with a laugh, vanishing into the bathroom to change. Chris surveyed himself in the mirror. _Not too bad, I guess._ He considered. His suit was more on the casual-formal side of things, with long, straight leg pants, simple black shoes, a light grey button-down shirt with a narrow, deep red tie tucked into a leather belt and a fitted black jacket, a single button done up over his belt buckle. Instead of letting his hair stick up as usual, Jill had combed it in a casual sweep to the side with a side-part, and Chris frowned. _Too much effort for me, but hey, can't say that it looks all that bad..._ The sound of Jill emerging from the bathroom made him turn around, and he felt his heart give a small jump as he looked at her. The dress she'd chosen was a deep, navy blue, simple but pretty, that fit closely to her body down to just below her knees. A simple black ribbon had been tied around the middle, and she wore a small silver chain with a pearl at the end of it. She turned to fiddle with her hair and make a face at herself in the mirror, and Chris looked at the way it curved against her, fitting her hips just right, letting his eyes just wander...

"You like?" Jill inquired. Chris blushed and realized he had gotten a semi checking her out, and gave a sheepish nod, turning to gather together the mess of supplies on the table but really just angling his hips away from her. She laughed and went over to slip on the low, black heels she had chosen. "Shall we, my prince charming?"

Chris hooked his arm around hers once they got their coats on and got into Jill's car to drive to the hall. It was a large, banquet type thing that town meetings were held in but it was an old building with a large staircase angling up either side of the main hall. Jill gave the keys to a valet and the pair walked in together, looking around at a few news crews that were setting up outside. _Jeez, is it really that big of a deal? I guess it's good publicity for the holy empire that is the Umbrella Corporation..._ Several important looking older men were making their way inside and gave Chris and Jill critical looks. Beside him, Jill pulled away and went to greet Rebecca, while Chris spied Forest and went over to chat with him.

"This is some shit, eh?" Forest laughed, clapping Chris on the shoulder. Standing uncomfortable, they gathered with the rest of the two teams. Looking around the increasingly crowded main hall, Chris couldn't see Wesker anywhere and frowned. _What, you miss him? Grow up..._ Chris frowned to himself and made his way over to get a glass of champagne. A booming voice signaled Irons joining them, and most of S.T.A.R.S. gathered around him.

"Here are my shining _stars_ , hm?" He laughed again, and Chris couldn't help but roll his eyes and groan. "Anyways, once the dinner bell sounds we'll all be funneling into the dining hall. Alpha will be at a large round table in the top left of the room, Bravo will be behind them. Food will be served, and once dessert is finished all of you will move backstage. I'll go on and say a few words after the mayor, the Umbrella speaker will say a few words, and all of you will get your awards with special commendations to Captain Marini, Captain Wesker, and Mr. Redfield who will receive their medals last. We'll take some photos, and then the group of you can enjoy all the alcohol you desire. Unless, of course, you're driving home after." He gave a deep chuckle, rambled on about a few other topics before turning to leave.

Hanging around and chatting a bit longer, a soft chime went off which signal five minutes to dinner and for everyone to get seated. Wesker still hadn't made an appearance and Chris was frowning but said nothing as they wandered their way through the dining hall, taking seats around the large circular table. Barry's family went off to sit at a different table, and the rest of them arranged themselves, leaving one empty seat beside Chris which he thought must be for Wesker. _If he's..._ A large group of men made their way to the front of the hall, catching Chris's attention. Several of them were older and wearing stuffy looking suits, and just as they reached the front of the room, Wesker finally appeared as he broke away from them, giving them a stiff nod and Chris couldn't help but stare at him.

Wesker was dressed simply with slim fitting black pants and an open black jacket. A steel grey button down shirt with the top several buttons undone was tucked into his pants and hugged his broad chest. They greeted him warmly, Jill making a muted compliment on how nice he looked, and Wesker dropped into the seat beside Chris, tucking himself in with a quick jerk of the chair. With him came his usual wonderful aroma, and Chris breathed it in as much as he could, savoring it. Wesker turned to look at them and their eyes met, Chris's heart doing some wild motion in his chest and making him look away. _Honestly, get a fucking grip on yourself._ He thought, cheeks blushing hotly, and he couldn't help but think just how damn _good_ Wesker looked.

A waiter began bringing around wine and the first course. Chris sat silently, bouncing his knee wildly under the table and trying not to stare at Wesker with everyone sitting right there around them. He almost jumped out of his seat when he felt Wesker's hand grip his vigorously bounding knee, and his head whipped around to meet Wesker's gaze.

"Cut that out." He ordered firmly. Chris gave a slight nod and stilled his knee under Wesker's grip, but the blonde let his hand wander to the middle of his thigh and gave it a light squeeze making Chris shiver with desire. His eyes snapped to the rest of the table, but the other members of Alpha were all chatting with each other and paying them no attention. Their position at the rounded table hid the movement, which was good because Chris felt himself getting hard and he turned to face Wesker again who still hadn't moved his hand. He gave another squeeze of his thigh, his thumb circling the muscle as his fingers trailed along the inner seam of the pant-leg, drawing a soft sigh from Chris. Wesker was struggling not to smirk and shook his head in amusement, his voice a low mumble as he continued applying pressure to Chris's thigh, letting his hand slip up just a bit further. "So _easy_..."

"Chris?"

The sudden loudness of his name made him jump in his seat, his knee colliding with the table and shaking the glasses on it lightly, making Wesker's hand fall away. His heart was racing that they had seen, but Barry was just giving him an inquisitive look.

"Huh? W-what?"

"I _asked_ if you had an opinion on the new additions they were making to the '97 G'n'A catalog? About the silencer attachments being considered a hindrance instead of a help?" Chris opened his mouth to reply, struggling to form an opinion through the panicked haze in his mind, but Wesker cut in before he could say anything.

"The only reason it would ever be a hindrance is if the person using it is too incompetent to use the gun in the first place." He mused, reaching and taking a sip of his wine, giving Chris a glance over the rim of the glass and raising an eyebrow slightly. "Don't you agree, marksman?"

"I uh...I guess..." Barry laughed and Jill rolled her eyes, leaning to pat him on the shoulder.

"At least you're a good shot." The rest of Alpha laughed while Chris gave a small chuckle and Jill a light shove. The conversation moved on to tactical flight patterns, and Chris looked from the group back to Wesker who was still studying him, wine in hand and giving Chris an analyzing stare. Shifting awkwardly, Chris was looked away and tried to think of something to say, stealing glances at Wesker who contributed little to the conversation of the table, but spent a lot of time watching the representatives from Umbrella. Somewhere around dessert, Chris grew bold enough from the steady flow of wine to shift in his seat and let his knee fall sideways against Wesker. Snapping his head in Chris's direction, Chris stared fixedly in the other direction and rested his hand over his mouth to hide a small grin when Wesker didn't pull away. _You're being a damn child, why do you always act so stupid when you're getting drunk..._

Jolted out of his thoughts, Irons came and motioned all of S.T.A.R.S. to follow him, the two teams rising and wandering backstage as the men on stage rearranged themselves. Chris filed nervously along, standing beside Wesker at the back of the group of them. Chattering nervously, a loud booming voice came from stage and began addressing the room.

"Late last year, the Raccoon City Police Department found a team of elite individuals called the Special Tactics and Rescue Service, or "S.T.A.R.S." as the department likes to call them. And stars they certainly have been. In the half year they've been on active duty, these men and women have already done enormous amounts of work to the city. At the end of 1996, Raccoon City saw the demise of the largest crime family known to be in power today!" There was a smattering of loud applause, and Chris shifted. "It is because of these actions, that the city would like to present them with medals of service to the city, and allow you all to become 'formally introduced'."

After this there were a few more words and the names of Bravo and then Alpha started being called out. One by one everyone went and joined the group on stage until it was just Chris and Wesker left standing in the darkened back area of the stage. The voice began talking again and Chris fiddled with his jacket.

"It's you and I next, getting our 'special recognition'." Hearing the sarcasm in his voice, Chris turned to look at Wesker who was giving him a knowing smirk. Feeling the corner of his lip tug in return, Chris nodded.

"Yeah, jeez. Before you know it we'll be winning Peace Prizes for 'Honoring the State'...or some equally er, obnoxious title." Chris retorted, and Wesker gave a soft chuckle, agreeing with Chris's criticism. This made a small smile grow on his features. Feeling a small warmth in his chest at sharing this small exchange of bitter cynicism, Chris looked up at him, boldly reaching out to touch Wesker's arm. "We did make a good team though, huh?"

The small smirk disappeared, and Wesker yanked his arm away from Chris, opening his mouth as if to protest but before either of them could do anything else, their names were called to the stage. Both turned to look at the sliver of light from the stage entrance, and Wesker gave Chris a hard shove towards it. Stumbling out, Chris did the best he could to give a forced smile and accept the small plaque that was handed to him. He was sure he probably should have been listening but had gotten distracted, thinking about Wesker yet again. The pair left the stage, and Chris watched as Wesker shared three stiff handshakes with each of the three Umbrella representatives. He frowned slightly, recognizing Wesker's expression as... _well, not one that means he in any way likes those guys. Although how he'd even know them...oh well, who cares._

"Ah, this must be the famous Chris Redfield. I'm Greg Mueller, a head researcher with the Umbrella Corporation." Turning to find the owner of the voice at the bottom of the stairs, Chris was met with a formal looking man wearing a tidy suit. He took the outstretched hand and gave it a rough shake and a sheepish smile. The man was grinning at him, and when Wesker joined them he turned the grin to him. "Ah, Captain Wesker, so pleased to finally meet your top man. I must say,you could take this one far if you wished."

"Yes, how kind of you to introduce yourself. I also was unaware that you had the qualifications to give appropriate recruit evaluations. If I remember correctly, you failed the police exam twice. Has something about that changed?" Chris couldn't help but turn to stare at Wesker, the ice in his voice intimidating even though nothing about the words or their accompanying stare were directed at Chris. Fully expecting the man to be offended, he gave a light chuckle instead.

"I mean nothing by it, just that you're doing _such_ a wonderful job with these cops. Really, quite outstanding." His voice was taunting almost, and Chris sensed that maybe they knew each other from somewhere. Wesker was glaring at him and Chris shifted uncomfortably between them, desperately curious as to how Wesker knew him. "Well, I should really be going. I have _so_ much to do. We've been making some very exciting new disc...oh, but I won't bore you with that. Goodbye, Albert. Pleasure meeting you, Redfield."

Chris was left standing beside Wesker, watching the man walk away while Wesker stood beside him silently absolutely seething.

"You uh...know that guy?" Chris didn't expect an answer, but Wesker sighed heavily, glaring at the back of the man's head.

"He's one of the contacts the RCPD has for information regarding medical fraud and illegal drug supply. I've had to deal with him a number of times." Wesker spat, and Chris almost flinched at the look on his face. _The last person Wesker looked at like that ended up dead with a knife in his throat._ Chris went to talk to him again, but Wesker turned the glare on Chris and he was stilled into silence. "Now go run along and _try_ to think about something other than me for one night of your life."

Turning and stalking away from him, Chris stood affronted by his words. The mingled hurt turned to annoyance, and he huffed while stomping over to the bar to pick himself up a whiskey, downing it in one gulp and asking for another one. Reuniting with Jill and the rest, he drank steadily while the others sipped lightly at their own drinks and chatted happily. Joseph, who had taken the train instead of drive, ordered them a pitcher of beer which they downed quickly, replacing it with another. By the time most of the hall had emptied, Chris's head was humming from the alcohol, and his mind was a swirly pool of annoyance and dismay.

_What does that even_ mean. _I do so think about things that aren't him. I think about myself all the time._ Variations of this thought pattern permeated and settled around the fuzzy hems of Chris's thoughts even as Jill offered to drive him home. Nodding, she led him out to her car and fitted him into the passenger seat, muttering about being such a good babysitter that she should get paid for it.

Chris ended up in his boxers, suit scattered over the floor and hair a mess as he spread out across his bed and closed his eyes to the spinning of his room. _He can just wait, on Monday I'm gonna let him have it. I don't think about him every night. He can suck it._ A sleepy grin played across this features and he chuckled to himself. _Hmm...yeah...he could suck it. What an idea..._ He drifted into a drunk, deep sleep, with Wesker being the last thing on his mind.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

The entire apartment smelled of the coffee that Chris had been continuously brewing since he'd stirred awake heavily at noon, and he'd sat on his couch for the better part of five hours. Now he still sat, mug in hand and frowning at the television that was showing a World War II documentary. His annoyance and confusion at Wesker's words had been swimming in his head all day, not at all helping the hangover he'd woken nursing. Drinking somewhere in the neighborhood of eight cups of coffee and eating three pieces of toast he was finally feeling better. At least physically.

He'd resolved to confront Wesker on Monday at work, although what he was going to say he didn't know. Chugging the rest of the coffee, he frowned and got up to refill it. _I do not think about him all the time._ The repeated thought made him huff to himself as he dropped to the couch. _We haven't even fucked around or anything in forever. Like at all. Not counting the hand on my thigh..._ That annoyed Chris too, since he hadn't even _started_ any of that. _He's such a god-damned, pretentious, fucking..asshole..._ Stomach growling, he frowned to himself and downed his coffee, snatching his keys and coat, and slumping out of his apartment.

Finishing a lonely cheeseburger dinner in his car, he chugged a Coke and thought about how close to Wesker's house he was. _Wouldn't hurt to just go spy on him..._ Pulling out onto the road, he drove and drank his soda, mind humming and still feeling annoyed. _What're you gonna do, go confront him? Go argue?_ He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he just knew that Monday seemed too impossibly far away to wait to get his feelings off his chest. Pulling in front of Wesker's silent house, he was about to chicken out and go home when he saw Wesker's shape move past the window. Heart pounding, he got out of the car and made his way up to the front door, not even knowing what he was going to say. Feet crunching on the hard snow, he shivered and knocked on the door.

"What are you doing here, Redfield?" Wesker demanded, glaring at Chris.

"I uh, I want to talk to you." He requested, feeling like Wesker was going to shut the door in his face. Instead, Wesker reluctantly let him in, shoving the door shut behind Chris and sweeping back into the room off to their left where Chris saw a desk littered with papers and files.

"Take off your boots, the floors were just cleaned." Chris frowned, but did as he was told. _Wesker gets his floors cleaned?_ He didn't know why that seemed so strange, but it did. Opening his mouth to speak, Wesker spoke over him from the other room. "And before you get any ideas, I'm not in the mood to do anything but listen to whatever foolishness you've come to say, and I don't have the time to listen to you ramble, so get to the point."

"Fine. Why were you so weird last night?" Sighing inwardly at his weak confrontation, he tugged his jacket and threw it over the back of the couch. Wesker emerged from the room, tugging the door shut behind him and walking beyond Chris to the long dining table where more papers were strewn. Chris followed, walking beyond the couch and leaning against the back. "I mean, okay. You don't pay attention to me at all for weeks, then you touch me right there, in front of everyone. _Then_ you practically push me off of you when I just..."

"You were foolish to try that behind the stage." Wesker hissed. Taken aback, Chris couldn't help but drop is jaw in almost comical disbelief.

" _Me_ try that? _You_ started it!" He almost shouted, jabbing a finger at Wesker. "You were the one who put your hand on my leg under the table, _you_ started it, I just did what you were doing! All I did was touch your freaking arm!" Shaking his head, Wesker moved to the other side of the room, leaning against the wall by the hallway and smirking at Chris.

"You need to learn to control yourself better, Redfield. Can't handle any time way from me... _tsk_ that's called _dependency_ " Chris felt himself tremble with indignation at the words.

"I'm not dependent on you for anything." He spat, glowering at Wesker. "You just--"

"Perhaps you think that. But the truth is that I occupy every free ounce of time you get." Moving back to the table, he began shifting everything together without even looking at Chris anymore. "The only thing that really concerns you is when I'm going to bother to pay any attention to you again. Am I wrong?" The tone was so smug and superior and...and... _annoying_. Seething with frustration Chris edged forwards and glared at Wesker.

"Don't flatter yourself. I do think about things that aren't you. Lots. All the time." Chris spat, huffing and turning to stalk out. Stepping to the couch to grab for his coat, Wesker had other ideas about letting Chris leave, and he closed the distance between them quickly and shoved Chris, hard. Stumbling forward, the brunette fell down onto the couch with a grunt, knee hitting the corner and landing painfully on his wrist.

"Hey, what the f--" But Wesker was behind him, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking Chris up onto his hands and knees against the pillows, growling in his ear as Chris cried out in surprise.

"How many times do I have to tell you to watch who you're talking to?" Wesker growled in the tone that always made Chris feel like he was made of water, and he felt a tremble ran through his body. Wesker's hand snaked around his waist and gave him a harsh squeeze over his pants, making Chris jerk his hips and Wesker chuckle, the blood from his head rushing right down to the tip of his cock. "I thought you said you were thinking about other things?"

"And I thought _you_ weren't in the mood." Chris retorted, hating himself for the way Wesker had just _known_ he'd have a hard-on for him. Chuckling behind him, Wesker started yanking Chris's belt undone, making his heart race. _I thought he didn't have fucking time for this_... He was annoyed, but fuck if Wesker wasn't making his cock throb. Yanking the belt and zipper undone, Chris moaned softly as Wesker slid his hand between the materials and firmly wrapped his hand around him.

Wesker pushed his body flush against Chris's back and leaned forward to suck on his neck, making Chris tilt his head and let his eyes fall shut. Forcing himself not to moan, he bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood and gripped onto the couch with white knuckles. The way Wesker was jerking him off made his whole body shiver, and a wild, deep need for his captain came over him. Not caring a bit if it proved Wesker’s point or made him late for whatever Wesker needed to do, Chris went to turn and kiss him. Pulling away from him suddenly, Wesker stood off the couch and grabbed Chris by the arm.

" _Move_.” Wesker growled, shoving Chris down the hallway towards his bedroom, and his heart was racing in excitement. Not only had he not been expecting this, but they were once again at Wesker’s house. _Except apparently he didn’t have time for this. So...we can’t_... Passing through the doorway of the bedroom, Wesker grabbed Chris and drew him into a deep kiss, biting his lip and making Chris moan into his open mouth. Leading him backwards, Wesker made quick work of unbuttoning Chris’s shirt and removing both it, and the one under it before shoving him back onto the bed.

Yanking his belt and zipper undone Chris watched as Wesker undressed, feeling his cock twitch in anticipation, letting his eyes wander along his captain’s perfect body. Moving to the bed and shifting on top of Chris, Wesker pulled him close, tongues meeting and hand resuming the firm strokes he’d been giving on the couch. Several moments went by before Wesker pulled off what remained of Chris’s clothes, shifting him back up further onto the bed and pushing down against the pillows. Shivering against the sheets, Chris arched his hips into Wesker’s hand and reached to stroke him back. The blonde allowed him only a moment of this simple pleasure before shoving him roughly over onto his stomach, hooking his hands against Chris’s hips and grinding his erection against his ass, his intention clear, and Chris felt his heart go wild. Trembling against the covers, he felt Wesker shuffle slightly and the bedside drawer open. _Fuck...fuck he’s_... Leaning over Chris again, Wesker’s warm torso pressed against his back, erection brushing against Chris’s thigh making it sticky with pre-cum, and his fingers massaging his tight hole.

“I’d say you and I have drawn this out long enough. Wouldn’t you agree?” Slipping two lubed fingers into Chris, the younger man shivered and gave a shaky nod while Wesker reached around and gave him several long strokes.

Behind him Wesker removed his fingers from Chris, the feeling replaced with the tip of his cock brushing against him as Wesker teased Chris with it, making him suck in a breath sharply. Heart beating wildly, a deep heat filled his cheeks as he pictured himself bent over onto his knees and forearms, ass rutted out to Wesker, totally submissive and trembling. _I don’t care, I want him so badly. He can do whatever the fuck he wants to me, I just want him, oh fuck, it’s gonna hurt so fucking bad but I need it, need him..._

“Tell me what you want.” The low, growl of a voice from behind him made Chris shiver deeply. His brows creased together, and he swallowed heavily. Wesker moved his free hand over Chris’s back lightly, almost massaging his lower back, trailing his fingers across one ass-cheek and then the other.

“You already _know_ what I want.” Chris hissed through his teeth when Wesker landed a smack against his ass, shaking his head.

“Your _captain_ just gave you an order, Redfield.” Wesker pressed his cock against the slick asshole, sliding the length between his cheeks and teasing him. Leaning in and sliding his hand along Chris’s side, the brunette grunted and shivered. Letting his head hang, Chris nibbled on his lip and knew damn-well Wesker could and would just leave him like this if he didn’t listen.

“I w-want you to...to fuck me.” Chris blushed deeply, and Wesker chuckled from behind him. He could feel the cock behind him rub against his ass cheeks again, and Chris felt him pull back and place the tip against the tight hole again, this time applying pressure and making the younger man tense and jerk forwards.

“Relax Chris, and it won’t hurt...” Wesker’s purr was low and deep. He bent over Chris and bit gently on his shoulder earning a shudder, massaging the brunette’s cock from base to tip, and feeling his own just barely start to ease inside of the tight ring of muscle. He chuckled, looking at how Chris was so pliant and needy. “...as much.”

It took everything Chris had not to pull away from Wesker, and his fists were balled tightly among the mess of sheets under him. _Fuck, he’s too big he’s never gonna fit inside me_... Knowing Wesker was right, he relaxed as much as he could given the circumstances and felt Wesker’s cock begin to slip inside of him. Not thrusting hard, at least not right away, Wesker moved inch by inch until he was almost fully inside of Chris, groaning at how deliciously tight the younger man was. The blonde was practically trembling with anticipation, and Chris knew this almost gentle slowness wasn’t going to last much longer. Pulling slowly out until just the tip was still inside, Wesker planted his hands on Chris’s hips and slid inside fully again with a bit of force, making Chris give a shiver and a groan of pleasure. It hurt, yes, but he could tell that once he was used to it that it would feel good. No, not good, _incredible._

Behind him, Wesker grunted and began moving in and out of Chris at a steady pace, fingers gripping roughly against his hip, other hand planting itself flat against Chris’s back. Body jerking forwards against the bed with every thrust, he gave a mingled cry of pleasure and distress, his body adjusting to the sharp ache he felt with each thrust.

"Guh---f-fuck..." Chris whimpered, his hands going numb from how tightly he was gripping the bed as Wesker pulled out and buried himself fully inside of Chris, thrusting hard enough for his hips to meet Chris's ass. Digging his fingers almost uncomfortably into his hips, Wesker met Chris with his hard thrusts again and again, the burning moving from painful to tolerable, verging on pleasurable. Hand sliding up Chris's back, Wesker grabbed his hair roughly and leaned over Chris to growl into his ear. The new angle allowed Wesker to thrust into him deeper, and Chris felt his cock connect with a spot that made him mewl and jerk away from him.

"Holy crap...fuck, right there..." The chuckle Wesker gave was so deeply electrifying that Chris's forgotten cock twitched and leaked a drop of pre-cum onto the sheets. Wesker kept his hand knotted in his hair, using the other one to hold Chris's hips in one place as he drove into him harder, cock connecting with that sweet spot again and again, Chris's whole body trembling with each impact. Never in his life had Chris felt something so intoxicatingly satisfying before, feeling the thickness of Wesker's perfect cock with every thrust, filling him over and over. He felt an orgasm coming rapidly, and he wanted desperately to stroke his cock which was throbbing and leaking pre-cum steadily underneath him. Arching his back so that his ass met Wesker's thrusts more deeply, the blonde reached around and gave the base of his cock a rough squeeze, sending Chris over the edge. His body convulsed abruptly as he came hard, moaning loudly and feeling his whole body tighten with release.

The feeling of Chris coming beneath him did it for Wesker, and he dug his fingers roughly against Chris as he came inside of him. The growl in his ear combined with the feeling of Wesker finishing against him made Chris quiver, his breath rapid and shallow, the strength leaving his limbs as he let himself collapse on the mattress. Wesker pulled his softening cock out, making Chris groan softly and the warmth of him disappeared as Wesker got up and off the bed.

Chris lay on his stomach while his entire body was still tingling from his release. Never in his life had anything ever felt that good, even though it was a bit painful, and he felt weak and tired and spent. If Wesker had ordered him even just to roll over, Chris didn't think he'd have been capable. His eyes drifted shut, and the movements of Wesker coming from the washroom didn't phase him. Through the satisfied buzzing in his head, he heard the bedside drawer open and close, and felt the depression of the mattress as Wesker climbed back into bed.

Expecting Wesker to lie down and go to sleep, Chris opened his heavy eyes in surprise when he felt Wesker shift closer, leaning his weight onto Chris's back and sliding an arm around him. Leaning closer, Chris felt him nip his ear and bury his nose into his neck, breathing his scent. Staying absolutely still, Chris didn't know how to process this uncharacteristic show of affection. _No...not affection, this isn't cuddling.._. Chris's brows creased together as he tried to figure out what this felt like as Wesker stroked his fingers down Chris's arm.

"Have you been with anyone else?" The question took Chris by surprised, and if he hadn't been so damn exhausted he would have tried to turn to look at Wesker. A fleeting image of Jill passing her lips over his at New Year's went through his mind and he wanted to roll over. He settled by drawing his brows together and watching Wesker's fingers trail along the muscle of his arm.

"No. Nobody." His voice was hoarse, and he cleared it slightly, nibbling the inside of his cheek. "Not since you and I..."

"Good." Wesker's voice was low and firm. It tickled the skin around his neck where his mouth hovered, the feel of his naked form leaning on top of Chris was warm and comfortable, and Chris found himself hoping that Wesker, by some miracle, would choose to sleep like this. A beat of silence went by, and Chris bit his lip again, debating fiercely on whether or not to keep this line of conversation going.

"W-why do..."

"Because you're _mine_ , Redfield." The reply was a low growl, deep and tingly against his neck. Pulling Chris under him and leaning on him heavily, Wesker buried his face into his neck and bit the skin gently again, making Chris draw a sharp intake of air. "You're my recruit, you're my marksman, you're _mine_."

_Possessive. Controlling. That's what this feels like._ Chris thought mutely. Normally this thought would bother him, but why should it? Every time Wesker had ever said "it's your choice" echoed firmly in his mind. The first time Wesker brought him here he'd left Chris sitting in the car, alone. Chris had _wanted_ to come inside. Chris had even made the move to initiate this every now and then. Even when he didn't get away with it. Wesker had done all this to him, so why should he be able to claim Chris?

"You like it this way regardless." Wesker mused, his voice soft and deep, finger trailing against his arm again. "You like me telling you what to do, it gets you off. You like being _under_ someone." Chris couldn't deny it either. But he also couldn't let Wesker have all the power.

"Yeah, I like letting you just as much as you like doing it in the first place." The stillness of his captain on top of him made him think that made he'd said something wrong, or out of place. But a moment later Wesker sighed in a light chuckle behind him.

"Perhaps I do like it." His voice was barely above a whisper, and Chris trembled slightly. Another moment went by, and Chris felt Wesker's weight settle on top of him more definitively. "It's late. Go to sleep."

_Now he'll move_. Chris thought sleepily, waiting for him to roll away. But Wesker didn't. He felt his captain's warm breath against the back of his neck, felt the weight of him half on the bed, half leaning on him. _He even left his arm around me_. It was the closest to cuddling Chris had ever (and would probably ever) come with Wesker. Blinking heavily, he let his eyes drift shut, the sweet, woodsy, expensive smell of Wesker mixed with the smells of the ghosts of shampoos and soaps on the pillowcase made his head spin and he felt happy. _Happy_. Chris let this emotion hover in his mind. _Happy..._

Yeah, he guessed he was pretty happy. 

_How did that happen?_


	15. Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new case arises for the Alpha team, and Chris has a very thorough physical training session with Wesker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy smokes Batman, where did January go? First of all, Happy New Years all :) (how long after New Year's is it no longer acceptable to say that?) So sorry it has taken me this long to update, my life has been kind of excessively busy/hectic/emotional/stressful since I last updated, and it's been one hell of a ride so far. Either way, here's the new chapter! I've got a lot on my mind right now, but hopefully you guys enjoy!

Wesker slid his hands under Chris’s stomach and shoved him over onto his back. Chris grumbled and tried to roll back, but Wesker held him there much to Chris's sleepy dismay. His hands moved to the button on Chris’s jeans and he undid them, yanking them down and pulling them off while Chris resumed his struggle to roll onto his stomach. Groaning again, he opened a sleepy eye and watched as Wesker walked over to the chair that sat in the corner. His head was still humming faintly, and he knew that moving would make the room spin. But all the same, he was glad that finding his way to Wesker's house and stumbling into his bed hadn't been a drunken daydream. Even more, he was pleased that Wesker had actually let him pass out in his bed and not thrown him back out onto the street. But knowing Wesker, he was probably saving that for when the hangover was really starting to set in.

“I like the new wake up call, but I’m tired as hell.” Wesker looked up at Chris, eyebrow raised, and shook his head. He wore the usual black pants and black shirt combination, except this time the shirt was a light sweater which, in Chris's opinion, suited him very well.

“I’m going to do laundry.” He said, struggling to hide the mingled annoyed amusement in his voice as Chris watched from under heavy eyelids as the blonde yanked the belt free of the loops. The sloppy, drunk kisses Chris had been trying to give him last night stayed in his mind, and he hoped they were in Wesker’s too. He straightened the crinkled pants and folded them over the end of the bed, tossing the belt onto his armchair. “You didn’t bring a change of clothes with you, and you passed out before you could take them off last night. And you've obviously slopped beer all over yourself because you stink of alcohol.”

"Laundry? _You_?" Chris totally ignored the offhanded insult, grumbled again and went to roll over, but Wesker grabbed his arm and pulled him upright. Groaning and drooping forward with his eyes squeezed shut, the room did spin and Chris knew that he was going to have one hell of a hangover once he got up for real. The windows were light, but it still felt unbearably early and he knew Wesker wasn't one to sleep in.

“Come on...” Chris whined, his voice scratchy, and his breath smelling like beer. Wesker wrinkled his nose at his disheveled recruit, slouched in his bed. Chris's t-shirt had beer stains on it, and he'd only managed to throw his sweater on the ground before toppling into bed. Wesker looked at the messy bunches of sheets where his marksman had been sleeping, and made a mental note that he'd now have to change them later. Moving to lean sleepily on Wesker's shoulder, his captain grabbed him by the shoulders and took a hard look at him. Chris’s hair was a mess, and he had circles under his eyes. The last call for drinks had ended up with Chris walking for half an hour with a drunk Forest until he left to go home, and Chris took a cab to the hem of Wesker's neighbourhood on sheer impulse. The only thought that had made itself clear in his drunk brain was that he really wanted to lay in Wesker's bed and breathe in his smell for the rest of the night.

“You’re a sloppy drunk.” Wesker said, keeping his tone even as he moved his hands under Chris’s shirt and pulled upright. Fingers brushing against the warmth of his chest, Chris shivered and wanted more. _Don't push your luck, you're really fucking lucky so far, don't push it..._ Instead of trying to carry on, Chris responded with some incoherent murmuring, allowing his captain to yank the wrinkled grey t-shirt over his head and thinking again only of wanting to go back to sleep.

Unknown to him, Wesker studied Chris as the brunette sunk back down into the pillows wearing nothing but his boxers now. The muscles in his arms were getting slightly more defined as he had been working out more frequently, his stomach and chest as well. The younger man’s legs too had new muscles forming under the skin, and Wesker let his eyes travel along Chris’s thighs and hips, moving over the slight outline of his cock through his boxers. Musing over him as Chris let himself get carried into sleep again and he looked at the stains against Chris's skin. Fading bruises down his side were marks from a practice fight Wesker had had with him the week before. That and from their dorm encounter three nights earlier.

“Is that all, or are you gonna give me a bath, too?” Chris’s voice was still mildly slurred and muffled because it was half hidden in a pillow, and his eyes remained shut. His still-tipsy brain conjured an imagine of a hot tub, Wesker in it with him, and making him struggle against a smile into the pillow. _Maybe morning sex isn't too much to hope for..._

Wesker couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he was thankful that Chris was too exhausted to look at him. The last thing he wanted was for Chris to think even for a second that this could become a habit for him. The very thought was hovering in Chris's mind as he faded further into sleep, wondering why exactly Wesker was being so uncharacteristically tolerant of him tonight, and whether or not it was a topic worth pursing in conversation when he was sober. Rolling over heavily, he felt Wesker slide off the edge of the bed and settled for his lingering smell on the pillowcases instead.

“Go back to sleep, Redfield.” He said, as he gathered together the rest of Chris’s clothes to take down to the laundry machines with him. Chris mumbled again, and nuzzled in close to the pillow, bundling the covers around himself.

When morning did come, Chris only half-remembered Wesker undressing him. Pushing himself up and squinting at the bright room, he glanced around sleepily and saw his clothing in a folded pile at the end of the bed. The process of getting up was difficult, especially since his head was pounding and the sudden swooping of his vision made him run to the bathroom to vomit. Rinsing with some of Wesker's mouthwash, he dressed himself and wandered out of the room, pausing to look back at the tossed around sheets. _If he let me pass out here last night, did he sleep with me?_ Shaking the thought from his head, Chris went to wander the house and see if his captain was home.

"Wesker? You here?" His voice rang out in the house, and Chris got the feeling that he was alone. Making his way to the kitchen, he spotted his jacket tossed over the back of the couch and his shoes by the door. Stomach giving another uneasy lurch, he groaned and went to sit on one of the tall stools in the kitchen, pressing his face against the cool marble countertop. Letting the nausea pass for a moment, he opened his eyes to squint at the clock on the microwave. _12:30pm. Shit._ Heaving himself to his feet he resigned to the fact that both Wesker was not here and that he'd need to find his way home. _Well the train-station is only about a fifteen minute walk._ Wandering to his coat, worrying idly what to do about locking the door, he spied the office that Wesker kept all of his paperwork in. Looking from the front door to the hallway he'd emerged from, Chris stood frozen in the act of pulling his jacket over his shoulders. There was something incredibly enticing about that locked office that produced the same air of mystery that the locked drawer in his work office brought on. Throwing another furtive glance down the hallway, he stepped over to the door and gave it a tug. _Locked. Go figure._ Shrugging to himself, Chris pondered why someone would keep a locked office in their own home. _Because he knew I was here?_ No, that didn't make any sense. _Well, he is the division captain for all of S.T.A.R.S., so I guess he's got like...sensitive info...ugh, why did I drink so much..._ Shoving the thought out of his head, Chris scribbled a note to Wesker that he'd gone out the backdoor and left it unlocked since he didn't have a key, leaving it on the counter beside a file folder.

Eyes barely skimming the folder, Chris paused and looked over it again. It was a plain, brown manila folder and empty by the look of it. There was only the smooth black company logo printed across the top. _Umbrella Corp. Sensitive Info, OP6465._ With the corners of his mouth tugging down, Chris picked it up and turned it over, seeing nothing helpful. Placing it down carefully as it had been, he mulled the folder over in his mind, wondering what exactly Wesker could have had in there. _Why would Umbrella give him sensitive info? What kind of info? What's OP6465?_ And while the thought brewed in his mind like the coffee he daydreamed about, he had almost entirely forgotten about it by the time he stumbled through his own front door.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the end of the week, Chris hadn't thought of the folder once and had instead been focusing on his training. It was still quiet since Parcini had been taken down with only minor criminal activity and a number of severe car accidents taking up more than a few days work at a time. The days were still cold and short, but Jill had strolled through the doorway with a bright smile on her face that morning exclaiming that the air felt just a bit warmer.

"Jill, so what it's like a couple..."

"Oh, shut up Joesph. It felt warm today. _Warm!_ Almost...springy!" Laughing and joining the rest of them in the common area Chris couldn't help but shake his head at her. It certainly didn't feel springy to him, but the heat he generated in the gym each day carried him through well enough. The reminder of how much he'd been working on himself made his muscles aches and consider the swimming he was going to get done later. Resuming his work on the file reorganization, Chris made his way to his usual desk and sat at the computer, staring blankly at the screen. The tedious work of reviewing dead or inactive case files had taken over and the whole team switched off with who had to re-type everything that had previously been handwritten. Tasked with that exciting duty for the afternoon, Chris munched on BBQ chips until just after four, when he cracked his knuckles and disappeared to swim.

Since he and Wesker had started their encounters, he had barely spent any time at all in the pool. But recently starting to literally dive back in made him feel great, even if he did sometimes let himself fantasize about the first time he saw Wesker in the pool to pass the time spent underwater. In fact, he had developed a habit of mulling over whatever they'd done most recently while he swam; let it replay in his head, get himself worked up about it, jerk off in the shower afterwards. He was quite happy with this routine. Today in the pool it was Wesker undressing him while he was half-passed out drunk that lingered in his mind, the way the pillows smelled, that manila folder... _hey, yeah, that folder...what was it? Op...Op4..._ A hand reached into the water and seized him, making him suck in a mouthful of water and come sputtering to the surface.

"Oh, sorry Chris! I didn't mean to scare you, just didn't know how else..." Regaining his composure and looking up at Jill, he struggled to regain his breath, chest still heaving from the combined exertion of swimming and the brief scare he'd received.

"It's uh, it's fine...really, I'm alright." Reaching for the towel he'd ditched on the ledge, he wiped his face with it and pulled himself onto the deck. "What's up?"

"It's Captain Wesker, he wants a meeting." Chris didn't miss the way Jill's eyes briefly wandered the plains of his chest before coming back to meet his. "Apparently there's some new information about a potential case, or something." Nodding, Chris told her he'd be there in a minute and went to get changed and dried off as best he could. Dabbing his hair off, he tugged his sweater around him as he made his way back out to the common area where the rest of Alpha was sitting and getting themselves settled. Wesker was pacing, a folder in hand, and looked supremely agitated.

"Kind of you to join us, Redfield. Sit." He ordered. Bowing his head in slight apology, though what for Chris really wasn't sure, he slid into a seat and briefly made eye contact with Jill who gave him a 'it's-not-you-it's-him' look. Settling and watching his captain pace, Wesker's brows drew further together and he let the silence linger a moment before dropping the folder he was holding heavily onto the table. "It is possible that there is a new drug overflow in the city. I have received information from one of the Department's contacts in Umbrella that there is a high-profile chemist who's abandoned his job."

Chris looked at the folder and felt his mind clear a bit. _OP6465. That's what the folder was...must have been for this._ Wesker folded his hands behind his back and continued pacing. His face a mixture of unreadable things that Chris tried as best he could to analyze, with no luck. Joseph looked as though he were going to ask a question, but shut is mouth and thought better of it.

"This individual has caused many issues within Umbrella since his time of hire nearly ten years ago, yet Umbrella kept him on because they valued his potential within the company." Wesker said in clipped tones. His mouth tightened into a thin line and he looked at the folder with near disgust, as if he were looking at the man in question. "He was agitating enough that Umbrella believes he may become...a security risk. Perhaps try to take over the niche that exists within the drug community."

"Sorry, sir, a question." Pushing himself up in his chair, Barry was frowning slightly. "But why would a chemist from Umbrella decide to start making drugs and selling them? I mean, why not just do that behind the scenes and work for Umbrella anyways?"

"Because holding the reigns of your own drug-extortion empire is a far more lucrative business than mixing pharmaceutical drugs for a company who thinks it's better than it actually is." The ice in Wesker's voice must have been felt through all of them because Barry only gave a small nod, and Jill's eyes flashed to Chris again. Letting his eyes roam over them all, Wesker straightened his shirt and shoved his hands into his pockets, voice almost entirely casual again. "Everything you need to know is in this file. Valentine, photocopy enough for the team and then leave it on my desk. You're all released from duty until six this evening when I want to meet in the gymnasium for a training exercise."

Each of them nodded in turn, Jill rising instantly and taking the folder to rush into the computer room and begin copying. Drawing his brows together as he watched Wesker vanish into his office, Chris sat for a moment sucking on his lip. A small, low conversation discussing what Wesker had just told them hummed around Chris, but he sat intently staring at the closed office door, mind wandering with images of the manila folder and of the man Wesker had seemed so put off by at the Umbrella Ball. _Same guy? It could be, shit did Wesker really not like that guy..._

"Earth to Chris Redfield..." A soft bop on the head made Chris snap back to reality, looking up at Jill standing beside his chair and tapping his head with a folder. Shaking her head and smiling softly, she handed it to him and went to walk into the computer room. "You better stop daydreaming and start reading, Captain Wesker really doesn't seem like he's having it today."

Sighing and giving her a slight nod, he accepted the folder and flipped it open. None of the words stood out on the page, and Chris felt sleep tugging at his eyelids. _Better wake up, buddy, you still have a training exercise to survive this evening._ Wondering why Wesker suddenly became focused on their training, Chris decided it would be best to just do what he was told and ask questions when Wesker seemed less...temperamental. Going and setting himself up at his desk, he worked for a solid ten minutes before asking if anyone wanted a coffee, and heading out for a drink and a bite to eat. Lighting a smoke as he walked, Chris inhaled steadily and mulled everything over in his mind again. A light rain was falling, and he found Jill had been right; it was warmer out. Spring was definitely coming. _Spending nights in a car watching this guy will be way nicer when it isn't freezing outside, at least..._ Getting a coffee and a bagel, he wandered back still thinking about everything and just finding that something felt weird about this. _Some random Umbrella guy and Wesker's all uptight and freaking. The entire mob? Cool as a cucumber, 'hey Chris, why don't you go sleep with that prostitute stripper?'. I don't get him..._

Inside Chris caught sight of Jill and Brad heading into the gym, Jill twirling her hand in a 'hurry-up' gesture, Chris receiving the messaged and darting to change. Alpha joined around the center of the gym, Wesker in the middle wearing only his boots, cargo bottoms and navy blue captain's shirt, material stretched pleasantly across his broad chest. Folding his hands behind his back, Chris joined the others and waited. Pacing slightly, Wesker's eyes roamed over them, pausing just a second longer on Chris before making their way back over everyone else.

"You've all made remarkable improvements since you've started your work here, that hasn't gone unnoticed." Voice clear in the large, quiet room, Chris's eyes followed his pacing and watched the subtle ripple of material against his biceps. Beside him, Joseph shifted his weight from foot to foot, and Barry nodded slightly. "That being said, it also hasn't gone unnoticed that you all relax quite a bit in your spare time. Some more than others."

Now Wesker's glance really did linger on Chris's a moment longer, and Chris sucked a breath and dropped his eyes to his feet. _Oh, what? Like passing out drunk at your house around 4am? Nah..._ A guilty blush crept into his cheeks, and he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Jill tossed him a furtive glance before looking back with full attention to their captain. _Yeah yeah, I'm the one who drinks and smokes and suggests all the pub nights..._

"While I don't see any negative impacts reflected on your work, either in the office or outside of it, I have decided to begin administering random tests of your skills." A hint of amusement lingered in his voice, and Chris bit at the inside of his lip. "For this evening, we'll be pairing up and reviewing different parts of your hand-to-hand combat training. In partners, I want you to rotate between attack and defense, using at least five different maneuvers for each. Learn them well, next week I'll be conducting a random evaluation that will be submitted to Chief Irons. Valentine, you'll square with Vickers. Frost with Mr. Burton. Redfield, with me. Begin."

Eyeing Wesker tentatively, Chris followed him away from the others, each pair spreading out respectively and tossing nervous glances at one another. Nobody really moved until Wesker lunged at Chris, swinging a blow that would have connected with his jaw if he hadn't stumbled backwards with a surprised cry. This seemed to jolt the others out of their gaze, and the quiet grunts of exertion began to fill the room. Chris braced in a defensive position instantly, taking a step back and watching Wesker carefully. Grey eyes watched Chris with a predatory expression, and even though he knew it was a training run, Chris couldn't help the intimidation he felt. Lunging at Chris again, Wesker missed the hit he'd intended, but used the momentum to grab Chris's arm, turning and slamming him backwards against the padded pillar to their left. Grunting, Chris dodged out of the of the follow-up assault, dipping to the side and jumping back a step. Turning slowly and pacing to the left, Wesker chuckled softly and Chris felt a dull shiver go through him. _Chris...now is so not the time._

"Good boy, Chris. Now try and hit me." Voice low and almost teasing, Chris debated an attack. Faking to the left, he dodged to the right and aimed an elbow to Wesker's side which he easily dodged. Yanking Chris inwards and pulling his back flush against his torso, Wesker twisted Chris's arm. Looking out at other shows of training, Chris felt Wesker press his hips into his back, breathing warmly in his ear... _Is he fucking hard? Am_ I _fucking hard?_ "Come on, Chris. Hit me."

Releasing Chris with a shove forward, the brunette felt a warmth in his cheeks that wasn't entirely from the effort of fighting, and felt his heart racing in his chest. Facing Wesker he saw the smirk that had spread across his features and Chris made the mistake of sparing a glance over at the rest of the team. Using this momentary distraction, Wesker dove at Chris and took him around the waist, swinging him sideways so that he went stumbling against the wall on the other side of the pillar. Struggling to steady himself, he raised an arm to block Wesker's attack, but the blonde grabbed his arm and forced it against his chest. Moving so that their torsos were flushed together now, eyes flashing sharply at Chris. The smirk lingered and the deep rumble of a chuckle against his chest made Chris's erection impossible to ignore.

"What's wrong, Chris? You seem a bit distracted today." Readjusting the grip across his arm, Wesker pressed his hips flush against Chris's and made a small but rough grinding motion against him. His voice was teasing and sickly mocking in false concern, and it was all Chris could do not to groan. Sucking a breath, he tossed a glance in the direction of the sounds of his teammates but saw that Wesker had conveniently positioned them just obscured enough from sight that nobody could get a clear glimpse of them. Eye darting back to meet Wesker's, Chris made a small jerking motion of his hips against Wesker's, not entirely of his own free will and his captain laughed quietly. "Well, well, Redfield, I didn't know you enjoyed training _this_ much."

Before Chris could filter out a reply, Wesker released the grip of his arm and threw him away from the wall. Chris went stumbling in a mixed effort to remember what he was supposed to be doing, and angle himself so his boner was hidden from the rest of the group. Not giving him a moment to collect himself, Wesker advanced again, this time aiming three blows, one right after the other, the final catching Chris in the side and making him grunt. Feeling the collar get snatched behind his neck, Chris propelled himself forward and connected with Wesker, successfully driving him back a step, the pair momentarily grasping onto each other. The corner of Wesker's mouth turned up in a smirk, and he almost looked... _what, impressed?_ Before driving his knee into the younger's stomach and flipping him onto his back. Wesker followed by grabbing Chris's arm and shoving it over his head, twisting the other one down at his side, placing the blonde on top of him. Panting and looking up at Wesker, Chris couldn't believe how hard he was from this, and Wesker knew it.

"Do what you want to, Chris." Pressing forwards, Chris felt the hardness rub against his captain's own and he suppressed another moan, chest heaving with his pounding heart as Wesker put on a small display of subduing him. In the process, he re-adjusted his hips over Chris, the friction it created feeling like electricity.

"S-stop it." Chris breathed, barely above a whisper and with no real conviction at all. Circling his hips ever so slightly downwards against Chris, he had to hold in another groan, wanting to leave, to get out of the gym, to just let Wesker do whatever...

"Make me." Wesker taunted, pushing his twisted arm from his side up to join the other, pinned to the floor beside his head. Wesker leaned closer, breath tickling the damp skin of Chris's neck. His voice dropped to barely audible over the grunts and thuds of training around the room. "Get me off."

Suddenly Wesker shoved himself off of Chris and up to his feet, his command to 'Stop!' sounding loudly around the room. Lying on the ground, trembling and breathing hard, Chris was aware of a pounding erection between his legs and rolled over quickly, pushing himself to his feet and glancing around at his team. Barry was smirking and shaking his head at Chris, and they all looked worn and tired. _How long were we fighting?_ Clearing his throat noisily and adjusting his shirt, Chris peeked up at Wesker between his lashes, who was now pacing and discussing that he liked what he'd seen, and that he expected them to continue on their own terms.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some things to take care of. You're all dismissed." His eyes brushed over Chris's, alight with a teasing pleasure, and Chris returned the look with a confused, disgruntled stare, darting off to his room to grab a change of clothes and a towel. Speed-walking back to the bathrooms, he saw Barry's things in a pile on the counter and heard another shower on. Walking all the way down to the end, Chris put the water on full blast, stripped and slid inside. Thinking of the way Wesker had flushed their hips together made the hardness between his thighs twitch, and he gave a frustrated sigh, snatching the soap from the shelf and scrubbing frantically at his arms.

_Why the fuck would he do that to me? Jesus, anyone could have seen, any one of them..._ The vague sounds of another shower being turned on filtered in through the din of his brain, and he put the soap aside, scrubbing a layer of shampoo through his hair immediately after, ignoring the equal pounding of his heart and his cock. Keeping his eyes shut as he let the shampoo wash out of his short hair, he almost yelled out loud when he felt someone touch him. Opening his eyes to a stinging of residual soap, he felt himself get pushed close to the wall and turned around, as Wesker snaked an arm around him.

"Chris, you disappeared so quickly. I needed to make sure that I didn't hurt you too badly." He purred in his ear, voice barely audible over the running water. Bracing himself against his hands flat on the wall, Chris took a shaky breath and listened to the sounds of Barry several stalls down humming to himself. Wesker pressed himself firmly up against Chris's ftont, hard length brushing against his thigh. "Don't worry, Redfield. Nobody will hear you. If you keep quiet."

Looking up at Wesker, the blonde pulled back to press their mouths together, not waiting for Chris to respond and slipping his tongue into the kiss. Chris groaned, feeling himself almost melt backwards against the cool, wet tiles as the warm water cascaded over them. Pulling back from him, Wesker's eyes were shining in such a predatory, _lusting_ way that it made Chris's cock throb. As if in response, Wesker's hand found it and stroked him long, slow and teasing. 

"Awfully worked up after just a bit of fighting, aren't you?" The playful teasing was driving Chris insane, Wesker's unnaturally good mood such a stark contrast from his earlier slight anger. Stroking Chris and leaning in to bite his neck softly, Chris hissed a breath and felt himself go limp in Wesker's arm, completely succumbing to the pleasure he was being given. Biting his lip to stop himself from making any sound in the echoing shower chamber, the sound of Barry's voice talking to Joseph made him jump slightly, and Wesker chuckle, vibrating pleasantly against him.

"I-it's your f-fault. If y-you hadn't..." Wesker tightened his grip, pressing his erection against Chris and grinding slightly, the heat from the water enhancing the feeling noticeably. "I...uh..."

"So because you get hard when you're beaten makes it my fault?" A slight twinge of annoyance prickled at Chris's mind and his brows drew together. Opening his mouth to protest, Wesker snaked his other hand down between Chris's cheeks, fingers pulling them apart and brushing against his hole. The intake of breath from Chris seemed impossibly loud, especially since he could clearly hear Barry now getting out of the shower, and Joseph still in his. The hand over his cock felt so fucking _good_ , and the teasing prods at his ass were making him shiver. "Are you thinking about me on top of you, Chris? Thinking about the way it feels when I'm inside of you?"

"Yes." Chris breathed. The steady stroking of his cock was driving him wild and reached up to dig his fingers into the damp skin of Wesker's biceps.

"Do you want me inside of you?"

"Ah, fuck, yes, _yes_..." Chris hissed, the hot water making his skin tingle all over. Wesker chuckled softly again, and his lips brushed over his ear as he whispered to him.

"Fingers or cock?"

"Cock." Groaning as Wesker pulled away from Chris, he had his arm grabbed and he was turned and shoved roughly against the wall. Cheek pressed against the damp surface, he planted his hands firmly against the tile and bent forwards slightly. There was a soft movement behind him and Chris felt something shoved in his mouth.

"I don't trust your ability to keep quiet." Wesker sneered, tracing the tip of his cock between Chris's cheeks. Heart going wild, Chris whimpered slightly against the cloth as Wesker pressed until he started to slide inside. A muffled groan from behind the damp facecloth, and Chris squeezed his eyes shut, the water and soap mixture not being nearly as effective as the lube, and the intense tightness was making itself felt. Feeling a bruising grip against his hips, Chris shivered as he felt Wesker press his length inside of him, moving until his hips brushed his ass. Pausing just a moment, Wesker wasted no time in beginning a steady, in and out, jerking against Chris while the brunette made soft groaning sounds into the cloth. Placing a hand on the small of Chris's back, Wesker kept the pace and then added a rougher, faster thrust that made Chris gasp and almost stumble.

Continuing this faster paced thrusting, mixing it with slower, evenly placed ones, Chris already felt the tightness of a climax forming in his belly despite the fact that his stiff cock was twitching against his belly. Moving one of his hands off the wall to wrap around it, Wesker grabbed is wrist and moved it back to the wall, holding tightly and leaning close to his ear, thrusting deeper from the new angle.

"I've told you about that before, Chris." He growled into his ear, Chris whimpering in response under him. Chuckling and thrusting harder, Chris whimpered again, tugging gently at the grip on his wrist as he felt his cock twitch and throb almost painfully against his belly. From somewhere to the right, a blurred sound of a shower going quiet left only Chris's and the empty shower Wesker had started running. Acutely aware of how quiet the room seemed, Chris could have sworn the dull sounds of Wesker's hips connecting with his ass under the rush of shower water was the loudest thing in the world, but a moment later he heard the door swing open and shut, supposedly leaving the two alone. Grunting slightly behind Chris, Wesker bit down against his shoulder at the same time as he reached around and lightly stroked at Chris's cock. The brunette whimpered and felt the tightness of his climax threaten, a thick bead of pre-cum mixing with the shower water at the tip of his cock.

Chris leaned forward a tiny bit more, and felt Wesker immediately thrust right into a spot that sent shockwaves of pleasure through him. Not really caring how loud it was, Chris groaned against the cloth, hearing it echo but not caring and he felt himself cum hard in Wesker's hand. A few thrusts later and Wesker gripped his hips tight with both hands, dropping his forehead against the back of Chris's head and growling deeply, cumming hard inside of the marksman. Feeling both of their bodies trembling together in matched pleasure, Chris let the cloth fall from his mouth to the shower floor, panting and shaking slightly against the tile, barely registering when Wesker pulled limply out of him. Expecting his captain to pull away and leave the shower all together, Chris stood perfectly still, his captain half leaning on his back and breathing deeply.

Turning Chris around to face him, Wesker drew them together in a kiss, snaking his tongue against Chris's again and Chris felt a warm, tingly feeling inside of him. He very much liked this new addiction after their fucking, this deep kiss. _Means nothing._ He thought, but savored it all the same. Pulling away, still breathing weakly, Chris lifted his gaze slightly to meet Wesker's.

"Turn the other shower off on your way out." Wesker said with a chuckle, placing his hand on the small of Chris's back and shoving him out of the shower stall. Gasping slightly at the sudden rush of cold air, Chris snatched the towel and bundled it around himself, shivering. Glaring at the curtain, opening his mouth to say something, he closed it and sighed, stooping to grab at his clothes. Sticking a hand inside to turn off the flow of opposing icy water from Wesker's unused shower, he tugged his boxers and pjs on, swinging the damp towel over his shoulder and shaking his head as he left the bathroom. _So much for the sweet, after-care kiss, I guess..._

"Going to bed so early?" Jill's voice almost made Chris yelp as he wandered into the common room. Spying her sitting on the couch wrapped in a hoodie and sweats, she had the file folder out on her lap and her damp hair pulled into a small ponytail.

"Uh..." Stopping to clear his throat, Chris glanced at the time and saw it was half past nine. "No. Nope, not bed exactly. Just gonna lie down and go over the file. Er, alone."

Nodding, Jill waved a hand and offered him a 'see you later'. Heading to the hallway, he paused and turned to look back when Jill called out to him.

"I know it's stupid, and none of us obviously care, but Happy Valentine's Day, anyways." She smiled and turned back to the folder. Chris felt his jaw drop, before stuttering a reply, turning and wandering down to his room and collapsing on his bed. _It's Valentine's Day?_

Chris hadn't even realized.


End file.
